


Un Gemito Dell'estinto

by psychicdreams



Series: Embodiment Series [2]
Category: xxxHoLic
Genre: Angst, Drama, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-16
Updated: 2007-09-16
Packaged: 2018-01-24 21:59:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 55,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1618517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychicdreams/pseuds/psychicdreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watanuki had thought it was all over. It had only been a vague fear of how badly being an archangel would affect his life until he was dragged into an eternal struggle where he alone could decide the outcome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Not Over

**Author's Note:**

> The chapter numbers are off if compared to my LJ entries because it counts the prologue as the first chapter.

If someone asked him what he saw when he looked at Watanuki Kimihiro, he wouldn’t exactly be happy with his answer. The boy was indeed an enigma; one that he hadn’t ever dreamed existed when he’d come to this world. Even though he would have sworn that he was familiar with every kind of curse and black existence that had ever been created or thought up, even Watanuki Kimihiro had blind-sided him.

Orphée looked out the window at the overcast sky that was pouring down rain. One time in his life he would have been sure that he’d only ever see black rain, but this one was almost crystal clear, like it usually was in the human world. After spending so many years here, as a recluse of the highest order naturally, he could see what drew his kind here so often and ended up committing such sins.

Even for demons, there _were_ sins and not just the ones that landed them as demons in the first place.

_“Your name?”_

_He chuckled at the business-like tone of the woman in front of him. She was young, but very powerful and he, very old and having made his existence in the human world long before. Her burgundy eyes held a determination he hadn’t seen in her predecessor even when he’d shown up, which told him how young and inexperienced she was. She was also barely out of her teens. He couldn’t help his gaze taking her figure in to his memory in an assessing way, noting that she was small and probably still growing, into her bust at the very least._

_“In your Japanese way, it would be said Caecilious Orphée.”_

_She blinked, obviously surprised. “Blind Darkness?” Suspicious now, she took a closer look at him._

_Orphée laughed again, right in her face, which affronted her for some reason. “As you have probably guessed with that, I’m not your typical…person. In fact,” he added, smiling wide enough to show long teeth that each one of them had a dangerous point to them, “I’m not even human.”_

Ichihara Yuuko had sworn it would be a cold day in hell that she’d ever come to him for a favor as he had made it a habit to tease and lord over her the fact that he was twice her age. When he’d come to the human world, it had been barely out of its infancy. Back then they had been far more honest in their carnal and dark dealings, driven by nothing but their own naked needs. He’d watched their culture, themselves as a being; crawl out from even before what they called the ‘caveman’ era into something resembling a primitive society. He’d continued to watch as they separated themselves into different cultures, fought their wars, died in their beds…he’d seen it all.

He had never made it a secret he was a demon, but he’d also hadn’t had a lot of contact with humans. There were some things even demons didn’t know, he’d learned, when he’d come across, finally, Yuuko’s predecessor. He’d lived for a few hundred years in the human world then and hadn’t even had a clue.

Then the man had approached him and offered to solve his problem. His problem that caused him to wince, writhing in pain on the floor or bed during the worst hours of sunlight before it ebbed enough and he could gather strength during the night. It was not that he was a vampire, though he was aware that there were a few living in hell rather…happily.

No, it had been a curse. He’d been just doing what he had needed to do to survive. Just taking one soul from someone dying every two weeks. He put off eating as long as possible and only taking from the dying to make sure he wasn’t found out by either the humans or angels, who had prowled the human world far more frequently then than they did now. Now, you’d be hard pressed to find human saints much _less_ an angel.

This one had, unfortunately, come across him with righteous anger and also happened to be an archangel. Not a very high one, but high enough. Young too, full of anger at what he was doing, and refused to listen to him. Most seasoned archangels after the war came away more resigned and calm. Had one of them found him, they would have listened to him and probably left him alone, since he was doing nothing that nature wouldn’t have done. And he even went to all the trouble to pick the less savory kinds that _wouldn’t_ make it into heaven.

Orphée had forgotten the archangel’s name after so, so long. All he could remember was his impression that the archangel hadn’t even fought in the war, probably only recently promoted to fill in one of the two spaces in the ranks. After Lucifer had left there had been one open, but he’d heard whispered rumors among the other demons that they had lost _another_ member, one they’d cast out themselves. Details varied, but the rumor at the core had been confirmed later.

The curse had involved upping his sensitivity to light, which was generally known as the angels’ time. Night had always fallen to demons, day to the angels. As if the sensitivity hadn’t been bad enough, he’d been left with a terrible wound right above his heart that pounded consistently no matter what time of day. It reduced the potency of the souls he ate so he was almost always starving, but also made sure he didn’t take more than one every two weeks otherwise it would pump his whole body full of poison and kill him.

He had just gotten used to always feeling hungry when _he_ had come and offered to get rid of it. He said that all the demon had had to do was wish and it could go away. It was very much like how a devil would offer a human a deal and Orphée had smirked. It was _demons_ that had invented these games and he could play along. So he’d asked for what price would this miracle cost.

_“Demons behold to no one except Lucifer and only barely then. They have self-interest above all else.” The man, clad in flowing silk robes that just screamed upper class, was calm beyond all reasoning when dealing with a demon. He wore a wide-brimmed hat on his head that he seemed extremely fond of. “I can take away this curse, but your price would be to be beholden to us all for the rest of eternity.”_

_“Us all?”_

_“Ever since this society began, there has been one single wish granter. A sorcerer that has become powerful enough to the point that we understand that there is far more than good and evil out there. Our power stretches beyond the heavens, beyond god and Satan, beyond good and evil. Only one at one time or the balance is thrown off._

_“Demons live for all eternity, unless they are killed…or unless they starve because they can’t feed. Make no mistake, demon, the curse is killing you. You are never full and yet you can’t get more. It is slowly slitting your throat. I can take it off, but your price is that you are beholden to any wish granter. When they ask something of you, you must do it. When they require your presence, you must come.” Seeing his face, the old man smiled, his hair a startling white with age and yet youth in his eyes. “Oh come on, it’s not that bad. You’ll probably only be asked one thing by one wish granter in their entire lifetime.”_

So he had agreed. What else was there anyway? For demons, the priority was survival and this man was offering him that. There was no way he couldn’t accept that, not at the stage he was in. The removal of the curse had been painful, but he’d had worse and had bore it with silence.

Orphée had been living in the human world since then. He’d taught that wish granter a lot of things since then, such as a powerless name, an alias. Orphée Caecilious was not his real name, but one he had chosen specifically. Humans couldn’t pronounce a demon’s real name anyway. He’d seen more than one demon come back to hell with winces as a human mangled their name yet again.

He also rather liked the Japanese style of names, since Blind Darkness sounded a lot better than Darkness Blind.

One of the reasons Yuuko didn’t like him was probably because he knew about the technicalities of the job more than she did. Her predecessor loved to talk and had been more than willing to answer any questions he had, things he hadn’t ever told his successor.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the bottle on one of his protected shelves. Inside sat a small sphere, giving off a pretty white light, but it had nothing to do with holy power. No, it was a human soul, one that Yuuko had brought to him for that favor. There was no limits to what any wish granter could ask him to do, but he’d found that the man’s words had been true: he was rarely asked more than once and only in dire circumstances. They were a proud and lone-wolf lot.

His demon sight, which showed him any given object different than humans, allowed him to see specs of black in that white orb. He doubted a human, even Watanuki Kimihiro, would be able to see it, but he could. His soul was thrumming in the same sort of pattern as the feeling of those black specs, which meant it was of the darkness. Yuuko had only given him the barest of information on it, but he didn’t need her explanation to know that the human soul and that evil, as she had named it, were in constant contest. They both wanted control, but were at an impasse.

Orphée stood up from his comfortable chair and put his book down. He’d never met Watanuki Kimihiro before, but he’d seen him once when he’d been required to meet Yuuko at her shop. It had changed since she had taken over, but the location had been the same.

He radiated a mix of auras. One of pure human, one of an angelic grace, and on top of that, also had something that Orphée could only describe as a pheromone. He could smell it, feel it permeate his black and indifferent heart. He had more than enough willpower to resist the siren’s call, that told him to get the boy, but it didn’t change the fact that it was there. It was no wonder the boy was living a life of terror. If it tempted someone like Orphée, no spirit would be able to resist.

And more than just feeling, what he **saw** was incredible. Orphée’s every day sight would be enough to give any normal person a headache. He saw the bindings that everyone had from their soul to body; their body to earth; their mind to the soul. All three layered upon layered that he was far too used to seeing to even give it any mind.

But what he saw before him was three times that. The bindings were that of heavy-linked chains that circled so securely around that thin frame it was a wonder he wasn’t crushed. Red and black ribbons seemed to tie down and cover his right eye, even though the body he saw could see just fine out if it. There were no wounds visible to the naked eye, but with Orphée’s vision, he saw thousands of scars and cuts oozing from his soul. There was one right below his heart, the biggest one, like a rent in the very fabric of his being and it festered with pain. Instinctively, he knew this one to have a connection with that glowing soul he’d been given.

And yet none of that compared to the three-tiered wings he saw from the soul. They were wrapped tightly by those heavy chains binding soul to body and awkward looking, how cramped they appeared, but it didn’t change the fact that for the first time in forever since he’d come to the human world, he’d gasped and was caught off guard. The power and depth of those wings that he saw…the only time he’d ever since such extravagance had been on Gabriel. And even then, they held none of what this human boy’s had. The Seraphim, he knew, was the highest of the angel order and in comparison to that, archangels were only the second on the ladder. But this boy could almost make it to Cherubim in power.

Perhaps, he thought later when he wasn’t so shocked, that on their own, those wings would only be as high as Gabriel, but it was the combination of _all_ of the things. The mix of auras, the heavy binding chains to his existence, and then the angelic presence and wings. For the supernatural world, his existence _was_ that of a Cherubim or Seraphim.

This boy had no place in either heaven or hell, in either of the societies thereof. No, he occupied that place in between heaven and hell. That place on earth that was as powerful as both above and below and not even the realm of existence with humans.

The only place this boy fit in was as a wish granter.

If he hadn’t been so old, Orphée would have jumped as the phone ringing shattered the contemplative atmosphere of his home. He set down the bottle containing that little soul and knew why Yuuko had brought it to him. It would take several hundred years, they both knew, for that evil to fade and knew the only one that would have that time was him. He was so reclusive, he didn’t think even the archangels knew he where to find him. Not that they came to earth anymore, mind you.

“Good evening, little Yuuko. Have you finally found a date for the prom?”

The silence on the other end was distinctly displeased and Orphée’s smile grew. As far as he knew, he was the only one that ever teased Yuuko like this. He couldn’t help thinking of her still as a child. She may be old by human standards, but she was nowhere near _his_ age. He was time immemorial.

“I hate it when you do that and know it’s me.”

“Who _else_ would call me?”

“…Whatever.”

She also had the habit, which they both knew she did, to fall back like she was just starting out as a wish granter. She was quite ungracious about it too. “What is that you’ve called me for?”

“I want you to meet Watanuki.”

His amusement vanished and he became deadly serious. “No.”

“Why? Afraid that mighty _will_ of yours might fail?”

Her smugness over the phone line didn’t even hit him, much less make him irritated, angry, or inclined to respond in kind. “He’s a prominent figure in the supernatural world and given what I saw the one time I went over to your shop, I have no interest in going anywhere near him. I’m a _recluse_ , Yuuko. I don’t _want_ any sort of attention. If he has any part of an angel in his soul, which he obviously _does_ , then he’s going to eventually attract _Their_ attention and I don’t want any of _that_ on me, thank you very much.”

When silence greeted him, he became suspicious. Being a demon, it didn’t take any time at all to guess what she was about to do and before he could do so much as get outraged at it, she had sealed his fate.

“You _do_ remember your price, don’t you? It’s not just a one-favor-for-one-wish-granter-a-piece thing.”

His eyes narrowed in anger. Yuuko and him had never seen eye to eye on anything before and had a relatively clear love-hate relationship. She had understood his reasoning being becoming a recluse and he had thought she agreed. “I have no choice then,” he spat out with quite a bit of venom in his voice.

“Tomorrow,” was all she said and hung up, choosing wisely not to rub it in.

He slammed the phone down in frustration, more worried now than angry. Being a demon gave him a multitude of perks for his power and a vague sense of premonition was one of his. Orphée just knew this was going to end up complicated. He knew that something close to a war might be brewing and at the very center of it, would be that boy. He would no doubt be a catalyst for both heaven and hell, rock both societies that had fallen into a routine of apathy.

Had he been a little more suicidal, he would have been looking forward to it.

**End**  



	2. Divinitus

He had feared that accepting his past would irrevocably change his whole existence. That fear had caused Himawari’s death, but he chose wisely not to think about that. He was having a hard enough time dealing with the fact that she was dead; he didn’t need to ponder the terrible realization that if he had had more of a backbone that she wouldn’t be.

Regardless, Watanuki had thought when he’d wake up he would be different. That he would look more impressive, have extra skills, feel changed. Or that, a fearful part of him whispered, his personality would be completely mutated into what he had been and not what he _was_.

But when he’d opened his eyes the first morning in his apartment after the whole terrible tragedy at Yuuko’s, he’d been the same. There was no voice that suddenly appeared in his head; he couldn’t turn invisible or make things move with his mind, though how much he tried for that latter one didn’t bear thinking of; no angels or demons barged down his door at 6 am and he couldn’t read minds. The only thing he could do, or so Yuuko told him _after_ she had laboriously helped him get rid of them, was summon his wings at will.

It was all a strange letdown, said a portion of his mind that he quickly stamped out with panache. No need to jinx the good things. Letdowns were _good_ , he reminded himself as he almost merrily went to the bathroom before his mood plummeted back down to his feet at the inevitable reminder that there was nothing to be happy about.

Two weeks he’d stayed at Yuuko’s, ostentatiously on Yuuko and Doumeki’s insistence that he ‘recover’. He hadn’t realized how physically demanding his grief had been. For nearly a week he hadn’t even tried to sit up, didn’t want to, but when he had, he had almost collapsed back down. Yuuko had insisted that it wasn’t his grief that had taken such a huge toll on his body, but his experience with the crown’s manipulation of it.

He hadn’t argued with her, too tired and sick to his stomach to even care.

The only bright spots that had been in his life had been Doumeki. For once, he was glad that his boyfriend never said much. He never had to explain the complicated feelings that brought him down. If he told anyone, he was sure they would go into a long spiel about how special he was and he didn’t want that. He didn’t want a pep talk, so he didn’t talk about it.

Doumeki didn’t ask.

Watanuki left the bathroom a few minutes later, going through mechanical motions of getting ready for school. The routine was far more comforting than he would have ever thought and by the time he left his apartment, he felt a little less like a zombie.

He didn’t understand why he caused the people around him to die. He had never taken life for granted, given that he was always about to be eaten by spirits ever since he was a child. If he had never taken it for granted, then why was death always taking away his friends? Was it some sort of lesson for _something_ that he took for granted? A lesson for being happy when he had no right to be? Taking happiness from others more deserving of it, like Himawari-chan?

“You’re thinking something stupid again.”

Watanuki nearly jumped, not having even noticed Doumeki had fallen in step beside him toward school. He whirled, getting himself dizzy in the process, and would have tripped over his own feet if Doumeki hadn’t reached out at the last second to grab his elbow. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, scaring me like that?!” he demanded, routine falling into place of yelling at his boyfriend before he thought about it.

“You’re thinking something stupid again. Your face got more depressed by the second,” Doumeki reiterated and calmly ignored all his shouts about scaring him and how he should have more respect for him because he _was_ the idiot archer’s boyfriend and just _how_ he’d fallen in love with him, he had _no_ idea.

At length, his ranting subsided and he didn’t miss the fact that Doumeki seemed vaguely happy about it, but he didn’t know if he dared to ask about it. In fact, he didn’t want to open his mouth at all. He just wanted to get through what would no doubt be a very painful day at school. The Morning-Routine had felt good and solid against him emotionally, but the Lunch-Routine would no doubt be an exercise in torture. It would always remind him of Himawari and the fact that she would never be there and it would be his fault.

Watanuki knew that her sacrifice for him had not meant that she wanted to be a saint. He knew her mind and her heart and knew that all she had meant by it was that she wanted him to be happy. But it was having the opposite effect on him, causing him to feel even worse. She had loved Doumeki too, just as much as he did. She deserved to be happy, more so than he ever did. He should have backed down, let her have him, but he knew she never would have gone for it even if Doumeki hadn’t chosen Watanuki. She wouldn’t want Doumeki to get hurt and she didn’t want Watanuki to get hurt. So she had stepped out of the picture entirely to let them be happy.

Someone had once told him, someone that had been embittered by time, that there were no truly selfless people in the world. He couldn’t remember who told him, just someone he had asked if they were all right as they passed on the street. Watanuki had thought at the time that the old man had been right. He had been too jaded on his life then, unhappy and making no move to change it. He had nodded anyway, even when he knew that the old man paid him no more attention except to utter those depressing words.

Yet now he couldn’t believe that were true anymore. How could Himawari’s actions and, on top of that her sacrifice, be anything but entirely selfless? Or maybe, he thought with mounting horror, it had been _entirely_ selfish. A selfish wish to get away from her pain, as she had to watch her two best friends in love and knowing that one of them was the object of her affections?

He could think of nothing but that terrifying thought all day during school.

\---

“Yuuko-san?”

The witch looked up and for a second, Watanuki swore he saw a flash of displeasure on her face. She dropped the magazine she had been clutching tightly in her hands and he noticed that several pages had been ripped and mangled beyond repair. Perhaps it was not the best time to ask…

“What is it, Watanuki?”

Now he knew something was wrong when the words were said without any inflection whatsoever. “Maybe I should ask later…you seem in a bad mood.”

“Ask me now.”

He winced at her flat tone that brooked no contradiction and it was the first time he had ever seen in her such a bad mood. “I wanted to ask about Himawari-chan,” he whispered. “Why did she do it?”

Yuuko’s eyes narrowed a little and she straightened in her chair, throwing the phone a disgusted look as if it where the worst creation ever made. “You make it sound like the answer would be a loaded question, Watanuki. I already told you that she did it because she wanted to save you.” Her trademark smirk settled in its familiar place, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Or do you have some extra knowledge that I’m unaware of?”

Though it pained him to do so, though it physically hurt to make himself utter the words, he said it. “Himawari-chan said she loved Sh-Shizuka. And I thought…”

“You thought that maybe she did it selfishly because she couldn’t stand seeing you two happy?” Yuuko shrugged and picked up her pipe, lighting it and making her pale skin seem even paler in the low illumination of the room. “That is a possibility, I suppose. However, I think you’d be belittling her character and choice if you thought that way. Seriously, Watanuki, don’t you have enough problems at the moment without adding more to them?”

It was then that he realized in a moment of lightning white clarification just how much the ordeal of the crown and the past two weeks had hit everyone, even Yuuko. She moved a little slower now, even after two weeks that he’d heard from Doumeki that she’d been slammed into her sofa and broke it. She hadn’t replaced it yet either and he had been too wrapped up in his own grief and self-hatred to notice before now. Her thin frame had never looked very substantial, but the look in her eyes lately made her seem gaunt even though nothing physically seemed to have changed.

“Beautiful, aren’t I?” she teased when he was found out to be staring too long. “Trying to make Doumeki-kun jealous, are we? Too bad he’s not here.”

He ranted just for show, but his heart wasn’t in it. There was a place missing where Himawari used to be and with her gone, it had affected everyone. He couldn’t help once again blaming himself for inevitably causing it. Despite Doumeki’s words, he couldn’t say that he had never considered more than once the idea of breaking them up just so nothing bad would happen. The only reason he hadn’t was because he knew that Doumeki Shizuka would never leave him alone anyway.

“Oh by the way.”

Her voice caught him just as he was making a show of stomping to the door and cut his ‘introspection’ short. “Yes?”

“Be here on the dot tomorrow and bring Doumeki-kun. I have some people I want you to meet.”

The way she said people was the only forewarning he had for what he soon learned was going to be one of the most horrible days at Yuuko’s wish granting shop.


	3. Waking The Fallen

_Oh god._

Those were the first words that went through his head when he stepped into that room and they were _surprisingly_ ironic. Orphée gnashed his teeth together and his displeasure and the sudden iciness from the other person who held his gaze made the room entirely uncomfortable. A quick glance confirmed no one else of any major interest. There was Watanuki Kimihiro, the bundle of walking pheromones, his fated significant other, and of course, Yuuko.

However, not even all three _together_ could cause him such consternation and force an ulcer to start forming in the pit of his stomach as that person did. His eyes glared fire at the witch and her gaze back somehow managed to equal a disinterested shrug without the actual action attached. The atmosphere didn’t seem to be doing her employee much good as he tried to slink out of the room on the pretext of getting tea.

The man in front of him was nothing less than an archangel. His blonde hair was nearly white in that angelic way it usually was and his eyes were one of the two major colors that he had found was standard among celestials: startlingly overwhelming blue like the sky or bright, vibrant gold. His were of the latter, looking as hard and vivid as if they really _were_ carved out of gold itself. His physique was toned and he figured that the angel was the same height as his own, a good 6’2 at least.

_First time I ever saw an archangel wearing worn-in jeans and a cotton shirt. Sure, he’s missing the wings and the extra **light** that they seem so terribly **fond** of, but he’s still a down-to-the-core celestial. The way he carries himself definitely says at least archangel._

Yuuko didn’t say anything as the other teenage, human boy disappeared after a few minutes and the three powerful beings were left alone. Orphée nearly growled in sheer frustration and shoved his hands in the pockets of his black leather trousers, hitching up his leather jacket a shade higher with a single movement of his shoulders. He had chosen to go for broke, the epitome of a stereotypical image for a demon in the human world, for meeting this Watanuki Kimihiro against his will and had decided on all black with somewhat fancy but heavy and impressive riding boots.

A glance in the mirror at home told him that despite his elongated ears, the tips reaching short of just two inches shy in length, he looked like a hardcore biker.

After his initial shock and displeasure, he noticed something else: the celestial seemed as reluctant to be at Yuuko’s as he was and it had nothing to do with his presence. The silence had stretched for a good three minutes and finally, Orphée smirked, one of the few human expressions that seemed natural on him.

“So what did she pull out of _your_ skeleton closet to get you here?”

A stiffening of the spine and he could see pride and dislike flare in the golden eyes that had never left him for even a second. And they said _hubris_ was the fall of man, not angel. Of course, being a demon, people expected _hubris_ and often accused that as the fall to become demons in the first place.

“Probably the same thing that brought you here.”

“Oh hell no, pal,” he replied, “if you’ll excuse the _expression_.” The more he talked, the worse that stiffening became and he could see he could have a lot of fun with this stiff-necked lot just like Yuuko. “You see, _she_ didn’t grant me _my_ wish. Her predecessor did, which I never cease to find pleasure in reminding her. If it weren’t for my payment, I wouldn’t even _be_ here.”

Yuuko’s mood plummeted to barely concealed dislike, but she couldn’t say anything to insult him because that would cause him to leave. He had fulfilled his end of the bargain. She had told him to come and see Watanuki Kimihiro. He had come; he had seen Watanuki Kimihiro. She had never said anything about _talking_ to him or _staying_ in the shop for any time more than two minutes.

As a demon, he was a mastermind at finding loopholes and he prided himself on that when it came to Yuuko. She had yet to outthink him.

“Since you seem to _favor_ the Japanese way,” Yuuko muttered, not exactly sounding pleasant, “this is Anatole Torin.”

Orphée’s eyebrows hitched up and he leaned forward a little just because it caused the other man such discomfort. “Oh really? The east thunder? Or do you prefer Dawn chief?” His grin became positively gleeful and Torin seemed to grow even more agitated. “Well, old boy, guess you can call me Caecilious Orphée. It means Blind darkness, in case your having a little _trouble_. You don’t look awfully bright to me. Oh, I mean with the actual light, not at all your brain capacity,” he added, making sure that his sudden clarification was as feigned as it truly was and that it was absolutely clear he was being as insulting as possible.

He could see the tightening of that finely crafted jaw and a flash of anger and suspicion in his eyes. He would have continued further on that vein, but dragged himself back from the brink with difficulty. He didn’t want to fight. In fact, he was probably out of practice after so many millennia and the last thing he wanted on his reputable and untarnished fighting reputation was losing a fight with an archangel.

“Blind darkness? So one your strengths was causing blindness, huh?”

His amusement vanished and he frowned heavily. He didn’t like it at all. Now his opinion had to be revised. This Anatole Torin was not the idiot lackey he had assumed if he was well versed enough with demons to know how they chose their alias names for use with humans. Always one of those names would be used to describe one of their abilities they were particularly proud of.

“And apparently,” he retorted, “you weren’t just a lowly angel. Your name’s double meaning are both true, aren’t they?” He thought back to the war, but it proved a fruitless action. All the archangels he had fought against had been dressed in full-body armor, including helmets. “Dawn chief…a commander possibly. The east thunder? Where you were stationed and what were either known for or what you attacked with. Am I right?”

It had been just guesses and he’d never been more irritated and angry when a cautious nod was his confirmation. One those damn war generals! “Hell! Hell, hell, hell!” he spat venomously, kicking at the wall repeatedly to vent his frustrations. The war was so long ago, but for the few demons and angels that still remained after it, the wounds had never closed. There weren’t many veterans anymore, and the few that were isolated themselves either in the human world or the demon world. And apparently the celestial veterans didn’t do much good either, seeing how they could have fallen so low to have one of their generals at the beck and call of Ichihara Yuuko, brat extraordinaire.

“Why the hell did you call me here, Yuuko?!” he snapped, managing to keep his voice to a dull roar. “I didn’t _want_ to come. I didn’t want any attention, which that damn kid is like a sore _thumb_! He’s got a damn supernatural _search light_ on him, ‘specially now that it’s clear his soul _used to be_ an archangel! Those guys don’t give up what’s theirs! Ever! I told you, I told you, I _told you_ I didn’t want attention and you bring me to a damn war commander!” With every ‘I told you’ he gave the wall a vicious kick that sent little bits of pain and force up his leg. “Betcha this one got awards up the yin-yang! The East Dispatch was one of the bloodiest battles ever fought, coming close to a massacre! _I was there_ and it made me sick! And where the hell was your friend here stationed at during the time?! The _damn east_!” His head whipped around violently to glare at the impassive angel. “Bet you can’t wait to go back home and say you found a war veteran, huh?! Get yourself another medal to shine!”

Yuuko seemed taken aback by his rage and conviction. Orphée knew why, but couldn’t stop. He’d always appeared cool and detached despite his teasing. For him, the only point of passion he had left was The War and then that passion was only resentment, hate, and rage.

As far as he knew, he was the only surviving veteran that had been in The East Dispatch. The archangels had left none alive…except for him. At the last second as he bled out on the ground, watching as that sword was speeding down for his neck, it had stopped. He had been spared. He could do nothing but watch as that archangel resplendent in his white armor tainted by blood walked away without a word. Ever since then, he had cursed that angel with all his might. Every single one of his friends had died that day. He had wanted to do as well, but he had been spared. That ‘kindness’ he cursed and loathed as it brought him nothing but pain and a stilted existence. It left the kind of wound that festered continuously, never healing even after thousands and thousands of years.

The kind of wound he had seen on Watanuki Kimihiro’s soul.

“Torin hasn’t been to Heaven for a long time,” Yuuko said after his outburst of rage had left a heavy silence. “Not quite as long as you’ve been away from Hell. It’s up to him to tell you his wish and his price, but suffice it to say that your existence won’t be reported to anyone.”

“Tell me what the hell you bothered calling us, an _angel_ and a _demon_ who by the way are hated enemies, together today so I can get the hell out of here.” And he really had been living with the humans too long as they had began to seep into his speech pattern. Now, not only was Hell a place to him, but hell was also a colorful term to express himself.

“Watanuki, as you’ve both seen, once was an archangel. Zachariel, to be exact. In case you don’t know, Orphée, Zachariel was a pitiless fighter and completely removed from any emotion. A very long time ago, they sent him to roam the earth, with his memories removed, to hopefully learn that lacking essential. He did, but at great cost. He fell in love with a king, one that history will only remember as a tyrant. The king held a crown infected with evil that could only bring about the bloodshed of conquered nations and death.

“The king got control of the crown for a time, but everyone who’s ever had it in their possession was always assassinated or died in battle. Since there was no battle, it was only through assassination. Zachariel, who became known as Kami, was deeply in love with King Xhaiden, who had put all his effort into wooing the very powerful man. In the end, Kami sealed the crown just after Xhaiden was assassinated and then let the rebellion soldiers kill him. Watanuki is the reincarnation of Kami and Doumeki Shizuka, his boyfriend, is the reincarnation of King Xhaiden.”

“What a lovely tragic romance, but what the hell does this have to do with me? You told me all about what the crown did and I accept that the boy is a reincarnated archangel. I can _see_ that blondie over there would be extremely _helpful_ to the kid. But why am _I_ here? I’m a _demon_. DE-MON.”

She gave him a pitying look, as if despairing of his intelligence and it only made him grind his teeth together in anger. It wasn’t very often she got the upper hand and they both knew it and she was being particularly smug about it. He told himself under his breath over and over that it would probably violate his payment if he killed her now.

“He can help with the angelic parts, but I wanted you to help him with his grief. He has serious issues and you _did_ mention that he had a huge wound in his soul.”

“DE-MON,” he reiterated with the same force and enunciation as before, as if she were a five year old. “I am a DE-MON. What the hell do know about grief like that?! Demons _cause_ grief. Damn it, I’m a DE-MON, _not_ a psychiatrist!”

“Damn it, Orphée, don’t make me say it. You don’t want Torin to know what your price is, do you?!”

His gaze snapped back to the celestial, who seemed to have thought about slinking out during their argument. He obviously had no wish to be there either and it was perhaps their _one thing_ in common. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?!”

Yuuko wasn’t letting him leave either and her gaze just dared him to do it. With a sigh, Torin’s shoulders slumped. “I’ll do it. After all, I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“Now see, Orphée, if only you would take that attitude, things would be going so much smoother by now,” she weaseled and that was the last straw for him.

Orphée spun on his heel. “NO WAY IN HELL! Even _Lucifer_ would never, _ever_ get me to do this! Not only is this demeaning, I will _never_ work together with an angel!”

He only peripherally noticed shoving past Watanuki and his boyfriend as he slammed the door shut so hard it was thrown off the track.


	4. Disposition of Memories

Though he had argued that he wouldn’t have time to breathe, Yuuko had been adamant, which was why Watanuki was currently meeting Anatole Torin after school that day. He hadn’t wanted to meet the archangel for more than that reason, but it didn’t do to argue with Yuuko these days. Lately she was always in a bad temper, and if he had to hazard a guess, it was probably because of that demon that had stomped out of her shop a week ago.

To be honest, both the angel and demon terrified him. Torin reminded him of what he was and what had gotten Himawari killed and Orphée was just terrifying by what he was. Whenever he saw the demon, the swirls of black of his aura were powerful enough that they seemed to block out all light around him. It didn’t make him cough and hack, which meant that most likely he wasn’t in for any harm, but it didn’t do much for his mental state. Didn’t help either that he had seen Orphée had long, long sharp teeth that had a very dangerous point to them. And frankly, the almost elf-like ears in length were weird, especially since the very tips of them were pierced. He’d done a double take when he’d seen earrings hanging down, a skull on the end of a chain on each.

Torin looked a great deal more normal. The only thing odd about him, at least in Japan, was his hair color, but at least that would only be chalked up to being a foreigner and not an angel. Watanuki thought he was a pretty good guy, but he honestly couldn’t remember much about their limited conversation in Yuuko’s shop because he’d been so busy staring at the man’s aura. It had been pure gold, unlike Orphée’s pitch black, and this was as warm as the demon’s was icy cold.

“Ah, Kimihiro. I’ve been waiting.” Watanuki stopped in his tracks and Torin realized his mistake. He appeared contrite and muttered, “Forgive me, I forget. That is a sign of disrespect to address one’s first name without permission. Watanuki…san?”

“Oh, yes. You don’t do that in heaven, Anatole-san?”

“Well, it is very rare that anyone has a last name in heaven. I’ve never actually met one that does.”

“But then Anatole…?”

Torin shrugged. “Anatole Torin is an alias. Real names hold immense power and it wouldn’t do to have humans call us by those names so casually. Even Yuuko isn’t her real name. But yes, since there are no last names with angels, it is hard for me to get used to this particular part of your culture.”

“If it makes you comfortable, you can call me Kimihiro,” Watanuki said hesitantly, his helpful nature asserting itself before he could curb it.

For the first time since they’d met, he saw a smile go across Torin’s face. It was relief, sweet and gentle. It felt like he was being wrapped in a soft, fur blanket on a cold night, just what he would have expected from an angel. “Thank you. You can call me Torin.”

“All right…Torin-san…”

\---

“So?”

“So what?”

“What did he do?”

Watanuki looked up from the table as he was contemplating his math homework to stare at his boyfriend. “You mean, Torin-san? He didn’t do anything.”

“Torin?”

“He said that in heaven they don’t have last names and he’s not used to it. I told him he could call me Kimihiro if it made him feel better and he wanted me to call him Torin. That’s basically all we talked about. You know, about heaven and stuff.”

There was a flash of displeasure in Doumeki’s eyes, but for the life of him, he had no idea what it might mean or what the archer was upset about. A hand reached across the table to hold his and Watanuki blinked, red rushing to his cheeks when Doumeki’s thumb just softly caressed his knuckles.

“You…what are you doing?!”

“I can’t hold your hand?”

“Not when I’m trying to study, jerk!” He snatched his hand back, wishing he could make his glowing cheeks go away as simply as that. “I have a lot of work to catch up on, you know! I can’t have you distracting me!”

“You invited me.”

“ _I did not_ , you just followed me on your own!”

“You said you needed help.”

“I did not! I just said that since you were just going to go home and _lounge around_ while thinking up new ways to torment and annoy me, you might as well do something useful, like studying with me!”

“Still means you wanted help.”

“ _Does not_!” He had to suppress his smile as he yelled back and went back to his books with a huff. When had arguing with Doumeki become such a natural and almost enjoyable affair? When had he found some of their arguments amusing instead of irritating?

When had he forgotten that he shouldn’t be happy after all that he had caused to happen?

After that thought, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything else and if Doumeki sensed his mood, he didn’t comment on it, so the rest of the evening was accomplished in silence.

\---

“Oi, kid.”

Doumeki instinctively moved to step in front of Watanuki a little when the voice had startled them on the way home. The demon, Orphée, gave him what he took as a disgusted look at his action and rolled his eyes. He frowned just a little, not bothering to deny that Orphée worried him. Spirits hounded Watanuki day and night; did his problem also extend to demons? Not to mention, this demon might be resentful of Watanuki being an archangel in a previous life…

“Don’t get your panties in a knot, kiddies, I’m just here to talk. Yuuko has been _hounding_ me about playing psychiatrist, so here I am. I’m not any happier about this than you.”

It wouldn’t have surprised him to see the demon smoking a cigarette, but there was none. He didn’t look like a delinquent like the last time they’d met, though. This time he wore blue jeans and a simple black t-shirt. There were, though, long earrings on the tips of his ears, which made him seem weird because his short hair was long enough to hide how long they were.

Blood red eyes looked him over and said, “Angel heart there might not want you here, but it makes no difference to me.”

Doumeki looked at his boyfriend, who wouldn’t meet his gaze, and he frowned. “I’m staying.”

Orphée shrugged. “Fine by me. I gotta be here anyway, so I’m gonna be comfortable.” With that, the demon pushed off the wall he’d been leaning against and headed toward a nearby café that sported more expensive and nicer furniture than most. Nice sofas surrounded the tables on the walls, which was exactly a place Orphée made a beeline too.

By the time they’d gotten settled and their orders set, silence had become awkward. Doumeki knew something was bothering his boyfriend, more than just his grief, but he couldn’t bear to bring it up. He knew the looks that Watanuki gave him when he thought they wouldn’t be seen and knew that if he asked or brought it up, it would only make things worse, so he tried to be patient.

“Since you’re obviously not gonna say something, I’ll start.” The demon paused for a minute and then reached out for his coffee. “You know, my eyes are different than yours. You can see spirits, kid, but I see them and so much more so you have no idea how grateful you should be.” He leaned forward. “For example, I can see the bindings that everyone has that keeps their soul to their body, their mind to the soul, and the body to the earth. I see all of those at once and it’s not I can stop it either. _Yours_ has these really, really thick chains on them and they look really heavy.”

Watanuki blinked in surprise and he could tell that even though Orphée didn’t seem interested in harming him, the demon still made him nervous. Under the table, he twined their fingers together for lack of anything else to do. His presence wasn’t required and probably wouldn’t have been recommended, but he couldn’t leave Watanuki for anything.

“Also, I see souls too. Souls that are superimposed over the bodies, and you know what? Yours has a lot of scars on it, but there’s a pretty big one recently. Right here,” he said, moving a finger to draw a line right underneath Watanuki’s heart. The boy blanched and Doumeki fought the urge to bat that hand away in protective instinct.

“You know what, kid? I’ve got the same kind of wound on me. Had it for thousands of years and it don’t heal. Time doesn’t heal a wound like that. It’s been so long that it’s sapped me of every strong feeling I have except what I felt for what caused it. For me, it’s hate and resentment. For you, it’ll be grief. If you don’t let it go, place some of your grief and blame on the dead, you’re gonna end up just like me. Then you won’t even have your feelings of love for boy-toy over there anymore. It’ll _all_ just fade away into nothingness until that’s all that’s left.”

Orphée was obviously being dead serious. His red eyes had darkened to a burgundy sort of color that seemed sapped of all life. Even the habitual sarcasm he had become used to and had associated with this demon didn’t seem to even dent it. And without a doubt, Doumeki believed what Orphée said. His concern turned to full-blown worry for his boyfriend and his hand tightened so much that Watanuki gave him a glance of surprise. The thought of losing Watanuki’s love when he’d just been glad to keep Watanuki’s life was somehow so much worse than simple death.

“I ain’t lying kid. I’m sure whatever grief you have is warranted, but you’re so busy dwelling on it that you’re not even considering the fact you’re no longer living. I’m sure you might have loved and cared about the person that died, but are you willing to lose everything else you love and still have over that?” There was a pregnant pause. “Or is it not grief that’s causing it, but guilt?”

“I-I have to go, Yuuko-san is waiting,” Watanuki answered frantically, standing up abruptly and literally bolting out of the shop. Doumeki only spared Orphée a glance before running to catch up, having a lot more to think about now.  



	5. Little Know It All

“What did you say to Kimihiro?”

Orphée looked up and frowned at his presence and it mirrored Torin’s mood exactly. He didn’t trust this demon and he was far too brash for his liking, but he had no choice but to deal with him. Yuuko had made him promise that he would look out for him, for whatever reason. As much as they argued, it appeared as if Yuuko really did care, even a little bit, about the demon.

He didn’t like his brashness, but didn’t hate him. Hate implied that he had the energy to and he didn’t. After the War, he found himself more tired than anything else. Oh not physically, he had come away mostly unscathed thanks to his armor, but spiritually. Though it wasn’t advisable, he had begun to question why he had been fighting in the first place.

In the end, he had merely made a wish to Yuuko and left.

“What do you want, celestial?”

“I asked what you said to Kimihiro. He’s been acting strangely lately and I finally got him to tell me you talked with him recently. What did you say?” he asked with dogged persistence, but not belligerence. Orphée struck him as the type to latch onto any perceived insult or threat just for the opportunity to toss it back or fight.

“I just told him the truth. The kid’s upset about someone’s death, but unless he does something about himself, he’s not going to have any emotions left to care about anything.” Orphée shrugged and went back to his writing. “Honestly, it’s less about grief and more about guilt.”

“And you know a lot about that?” He took a seat across from Orphée, who sent him an unhappy look that his alone time was being invaded.

It had only been by coincidence that he had seen Orphée across the street at a small-scale café, writing furiously. He didn’t peer over to see what it was, as that would be rude, but he couldn’t deny that he was intensely curious to see what would make the demon so focused that he hadn’t even noticed Torin approaching until he’d spoken.

“Demon,” was the only answer with an expansive gesture of his hands in what seemed like irritation, as if that explained everything.

“Is that all of it? Just because one is a demon and specializes in causing that in humans, doesn’t make one an expert on that like you seem to be.”

Finally, their eyes met when Orphée took his focused gaze off the pad of paper on the table. “Are you claiming to be an expert on demons now, _angelic general_?”

Torin blinked in surprise, his feeling of unsettlement increasing. He didn’t have the feelings of overwhelming hatred of demon-kind like the younger angels did. Of course not. Those veterans that survived the War tended to be more cynical and not given to anger or irritation easily. After the War, those that survived wished for no more fighting, ever again. And yet, he was still at a loss as to how to deal with Orphée. He’d not really talked to any demons before, naturally, and Orphée was blunt and to the point, uncaring about tact. He said what he wanted, regardless of how it might be taken or care.

“Of course not. I don’t claim to even be an expert on celestials. It’s just…” He hesitated just a little, his business-like attitude faltering just a little into his normal, rather soft nature. “I thought you knew more about it from a personal standpoint.”

“And what makes you think that?”

“From what you said when I met you in Yuuko’s shop.”

There was a brief flash of consternation amid Orphée’s vaguely supercilious expression. “…Oh.” He shrugged jerkily and went back to writing. “Well…yeah, I may have a bit of experience with that. If we’re talking about the kid, he’s in for trouble if he doesn’t get his head straight. He’s worse than me and I’m a demon. I’m able to deal with that kind of wound a lot better than he is.”

Torin nodded. “He is a gentle one.” Orphée looked up with a contemplative look, made a Mhmm-hmm-ing sort of sound as if he’d just reached a conclusion, and went back to his notepad. “What is it?”

A smirk appeared and finally, the pad was closed. Orphée’s head lifted, setting his chin on his palm on the table and the long earrings on the tips of his ears, hidden by his hair that barely reached his neck in length, jingled. “I was just thinking that it’d be better for the two of you if you didn’t fall in love with him. Sure, it would be bittersweet, as the kid is pure virgin oil, but then you’d have to deal with the fact that he has a boyfriend that will kill you if you touch him.”

Red flooded Torin’s cheeks at the blatant sexual talk and he frowned heavily. “I have no interest in Kimihiro in any way such as that. I was referring to his personality.”

His iciness only seemed to entice Orphée, whose smirk became wider. “Sure you were. I was there in the shop that time and the look you gave that kid. He’s adorably cute, don’t get me wrong. Hell, for a demon like me, I have even more incentive. His little problem of attracting spirits comes down to one thing: for spirits and demons, it’s like he’s exuding pheromones. Makes me want to take a _bite_ out of him.”

Torin’s spine stiffened and his golden eyes narrowed dangerously, glinting brighter in the sunlight. “You wouldn’t.”

“Nah,” he said at last. “‘Course not. For one, he’s got that bodyguard boyfriend who could _really_ hurt me with that exorcism crap. Couldn’t kill me, but hurt like hell? Yeah. Second, don’t get me wrong, there ain’t nothing wrong with it, but I’m not a guy-guy sort of person. I could, if pushed, it’s not repulsive or anything, but I prefer women. I _have_ known some demons though that devoted themselves to one guy their whole life.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter if it’s with a guy or girl though. Either way, never have to worry ‘bout kids.”

He nodded. It was true that both angels and demons when co-mingling with humans could never create a child between them. Despite rumors and fairytale stories, there were no half-breeds. It was not forbidden, it just wasn’t possible because of the way their bodies were different.

“Not saying it isn’t _possible_ to have one, but under normal circumstances it isn’t happening.”

“You’re saying the demons found a workaround to create a child?” he asked curiously, surprised.

Orphée’s smile vanished. “Don’t ask, you sincerely won’t like it.”

That prompted him to insist an answer. “How?”

“Sacrifice,” his companion said bluntly, ignoring the way Torin’s eyes widened in horror. “First of all, you have to find a pure virgin, completely untouched, and sacrifice it. I know, I know, it’s always virgins, but it’s true. You need a virgin to be as clean as possible so it can be as close as possible to a baby that’s just been born. Then once the virgin’s sacrificed, you take the soul and bind it to the human woman or demon woman’s womb. Sort of forcing it into her with death magic to make life. Backwards I know, but if you take the death magic from the sacrifice to combine it with the life magic in a soul, then it works.”

Orphée blithely continued on about the subject, despite Torin’s expression saying he wished to stop. “Though even after the child is born, doesn’t mean it’s going to have an easy life. Half-breed’s lives are generally very short. When born to a human woman, the kid will mostly be human. When born to a female demon, mostly a demon. And it’s not like those stories where half-breeds are stronger than full ones. No, they barely have any power at all. Half-breeds rarely live past their parent’s age, even a human mother who’s fifty won’t die before her child does. And there is no option of becoming a full-blooded human or demon. There is no workaround. If the kid is born, they’re doomed to die early.”

“What about those stories I hear about half-breed doing something to become a full demon because another demon or human told them how?”

The demon waved his hand dismissively. “Stuff and lies. I’m an old, old demon who fought in the War and survived. I’m a good friend with Lucifer. If I don’t know a way, it isn’t possible and I’m telling you, that it’s impossible. Those that said it was probably only wanted something done that they had the kid do for them. There is no way to conceive a child except through sacrifice, and if the kid knew what was necessary for him to come into existence, you really think he’d want to live anyway?”

Orphée shoved his notebook in a bag at his feet that Torin hadn’t noticed before and stood up. “Now that I’ve assuaged your morbid curiosity, celestial, time for me to go. Bye-bye!”

It was only as Torin was standing up and readying to leave that a waiter paused him to ask him to settle the bill.

“Demons…” he sighed.

Down the street, Orphée grinned and began whistling.


	6. Hear The Memories Of The Fallen World

“So what are you planning this time?”

Yuuko looked up at Orphée, who had almost magically appeared to lounge in her doorway, probably to annoy her. Her teeth gritted together, an instinctive response to the demon’s mere presence, and turned away while she faked disinterest in his very being. Her dislike of Orphée many romantics would say was her hiding her feelings from him, feelings of love and such. That their love-hate relationship just masked deeper feelings, such as Watanuki and Doumeki’s initial beginning.

Stuff and nonsense. She really _did_ hate the man.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, far as I know, you’re making a huge mess with this kid. He’s got it bad enough with spirits, now you’re going all out to drag heaven and hell into his life. _I_ heard the kid wants _out_ of this business and you’re doing the exact opposite by entrenching him further. You going to make him your successor or what?”

“No,” she answered, going back to writing her calligraphy and not bothering to tell Orphée just _who_ she planned to have take her place. And he definitely wouldn’t like it. Just the thought alone of telling him who it would be was enough to make it hard to not gasp with giggles of fun. “His power isn’t suited to the role, nor his personality. He’d get too involved personally and Doumeki-kun would never get any rest. Besides, it would be too predictable.”

“You do realize that he’s overwhelmingly powerful? Where does he fit then, if not as a wish-granter? Certainly not in heaven and nowhere near hell.”

“I have an idea for that too. His power runs more than just seeing spirits. He just hasn’t realized where else they can be applied and what else he can do.”

When she didn’t elaborate, Orphée apparently found her boring and left as cat-like and silently as he’d appeared. Her eyes lifted to stare distastefully at her doorway and she fought the urge to call her girls and tell them to spread salt all over the threshold and rooms.

Honestly, what she had to put up with and just for the sake of her own retirement!

\---

Things were getting tense, Watanuki could feel it in the air. The spirits were even more restless lately and they hadn’t even been following him. It was like they were waiting for something. They always said that the eye of the storm was the calmest, but that couldn’t be true since Watanuki was the eye of this particular storm and he was in _no way_ calm about his whole situation.

He kept himself distracted mostly from what Orphée had said a week ago when they’d met again. He wished he could deny the truth of it, pretend it never happened, but he was spectacularly horrible at lying to himself. It didn’t help the way Doumeki kept looking at him lately either, as if he wanted to say something but refusing to for whatever reason.

Things had become such a mess. His relationship with Doumeki was at a standstill. Ever since Himawari’s sacrifice, reality itself seemed to stand still for him. They were in a state of limbo, Doumeki not willing to move forward and push and Watanuki not believing he should. It was only two months after she…died. Was there a prescribed grief period? How could he even think about that sort of thing after what Himawari had selflessly done to save his life?

And wasn’t that the core of the problem right there?

“Kimihiro!”

Torin hurrying up to him, looking vaguely distressed about something, broke Watanuki’s introspection. Doumeki had archery practice that day that the captain of the team refused to let him skip on, so Watanuki had been left to walk home alone. And despite insisting that it was fine with him, he was lonely. He wanted Doumeki’s reassuring presence beside him, feel the golden eyes watching him with love and protection even when he was gazing at something else.

“Is something wrong, Torin-san?”

The archangel looked torn and kept glancing around nervously. “Have you felt it lately, Kimihiro? The air is thick with it.”

There was no name for it that Watanuki had ever found during his life, but he knew what Torin meant all the same. “Yeah. Something’s going to happen soon.”

“You shouldn’t go anywhere without your boyfriend. He’s your only protection right now.”

“Not only,” Watanuki reassured even though he began to wonder if Torin was right. “Yuuko-san always has charms if it’s necessary and my apartment is heavily warded. And I’ve had this problem my whole life, so I’m pretty sure I can survive this, whatever’s going to happen.”

Torin’s expression clearly said he didn’t believe that for a moment, but was too polite to actually disagree when it was someone else’s life he was talking about. The bespectacled boy smiled a little, trying to be reassuring, and led the archangel to a nearby bench. “What was it like in heaven, Torin-san?”

“What was it like?” The older man seemed a little thrown off at the abrupt question. “It was…when are you referring to?”

“When?”

“Well, before the War or after?”

“What war?”

There was a moment of silence and for a second, Watanuki wondered if he had made a huge mistake of asking that question, but after a few seconds, Torin began to talk. It was in a low, regretful, and slightly wistful tone and Watanuki found himself being drawn into the tale despite himself. Torin had a mesmerizing voice, deep and calming, and as powerful as a physical presence.

“The War I refer to is when Lucifer revolted against God. Before he did, everything was…I hesitate to say perfect, but it felt like it was. The atmosphere was easy and relaxed; it felt like there were smiles on everyone’s faces. I don’t know what prompted Lucifer to do what he did. Others say pride, but I don’t know if I believe that that was all it was. He took a lot of archangels and celestials with him when he left. When he attacked God and started the War, that was the first time many of us had seen true demons. At the time, demons were leaderless and not very smart. They huddled deep down in the earth, rarely venturing to the light of day. They thirsted like mindless animals on human blood and were little more than creatures.

“That is mostly the kind of demons you see depicted in church reliefs and paintings. We never realized until Lucifer came back just how _many_ demons there were. His magic had always run more towards manipulation and combined with his followers, he had created a huge army. His magic had even managed to expand and create sense in some of the demon’s minds so they were more…evolved. Either that, or there _were_ demons that didn’t just act like animals, but we’d never heard of them. I suppose if they really were that smart, they wouldn’t _want_ us to hear of them because they knew what we’d do.”

“What happened when he attacked?” Watanuki asked, a tad breathlessly and completely riveted. Torin wasn’t looking at him, staring fixedly at the ground, and the skin around his eyes and mouth were tight, as if he were fighting some old pain or his memories. Every so often, Watanuki thought he saw Torin’s hand clench into a fist briefly.

“Lucifer took half of the archangels with him when he left. Though not the greatest in power, the archangels have always been the most elite of the angelic warriors God has. I don’t know if it is too prideful to say, but there was nothing that did not fear us. There were hardly more than eight or nine left after Lucifer took his followers with him and we were all that was left to stem the tide of the war.”

“Lucifer was an archangel?”

“One of the very best, next to your previous existence.” Watanuki winced, not having thought he might have played a role in the story, but Torin didn’t see it, too focused on the ground and the past. “In sheer numbers, Lucifer would have won, but most of the demons he brought with him weren’t nearly as powerful as we were. And yet, it was dangerous all the same. There was always that ever-present fear among everyone that we, not quite the last defense but coming close, would be overwhelmed by sheer number, worn down into exhaustion.

“Heaven was in chaos, not having a chance to even stand up from the staggering blow of betrayal Lucifer had committed. And then we found out, just a whisper on the wind, that Lucifer had taken most of his forces and were going to attack us from behind.” There was a heavy, potent pause, as if what he was about to say were incredibly difficult. “From the east. A few others and I were sent to hold back the tide. It was all that could be spared. I can’t say it was my first command, but something felt different. We were waiting for them, wearing our heavy army covered head to toe, and it was like there was a sea of them. A terrible, blood red and black sea full of nothing more than the desire to destroy in the name of Lucifer. Even though our magic was much higher than theirs, our strength strong enough that one swing of our weapons could take down hundreds, everyone who fought there thought we were doomed.”

Watanuki started, drawn out of the story for a moment as Torin gave a small laugh, but it sounded hollow and vaguely bitter. He had clenched his hands together tightly, focused on his nails as if they were the only things keeping him together. And for the first time since the tale began, he wished he hadn’t asked, seeing how much pain he was evoking by such a simple question.

“No one expected us to _win_. Not even we did. We were just to hold them off until reinforcements arrived or protection barriers could be created and maintained before we were overrun and the demons went on past to the cities. We thought that that battlefield would be our last, every single one of us. But, by some miracle, we won. I remember…seeing all that blood staining the ground and something in me broke. After all we had gone through, not losing even a single warrior of the four archangels that were sent, I should have felt elated, but instead, I felt tired. So tired, in fact, that…I couldn’t even raise my sword one more time to finish off the last demon remaining alive. I never fought again, since shortly after that Lucifer retreated into what is now Hell, to be in a forever contest with Heaven.”

His throat felt dry and suddenly it wasn’t like all those stories in the religious books. There was always that feeling of ‘fantasy’, that ‘not-quite-reality’ that he had when someone recited them. Torin had given a very real feel to them, to the war that had happened. Heaven wasn’t just some place in the sky with clouds surrounding it as one might imagine. It was an actual place, with cities and people and warriors. And it was so vivid in his mind, the battles that soiled such a city and cost so many lives…

“Was Kami—I mean, me…?”

“You weren’t at The East Dispatch, as it is now come to be known. Zachariel was in the final battle, a desperate bid by Lucifer to win. It took place right outside the walls of the capital, no less. I didn’t see it, my troop and I were still traveling back from The East Dispatch, but I heard that the one that accounted for most of the attack was Zachariel. That he was the one that took out the most, assuring victory. He was, to many angels, considered a hero. But the archangels had worried about his lack of emotion that had made it all possible and thought that maybe there had been something wrong. I was not part of the decision, I would not have sent Zachariel away as if he had some sort of illness, but it was already finalized and implemented by the time I returned.”

“What does Heaven look like now?”

“Very much the same as it did then. Walls made of pure white stone, no darkness, and undying trees and greenery. It truly does look like a paradise. But ever since the War, the feelings have changed, the whole atmosphere has. Now the young angels and archangels only hate the demons. The veterans still remaining from the War have never gotten over Lucifer’s betrayal and yet we can’t really _hate_. For so long, Lucifer was one of us. We still remember that feeling of comradery and closeness. For veterans, all we feel is sadness and hurt.”

Watanuki dared not ask another question, seeing that the hands that clenched tightly before him were shaking slightly. He had never given much thought to heaven or hell before, never thought that maybe each was sort of like where he lived now, with cities and people. He supposed it should have made sense, but all the same, it was slightly surprising.

He was about to say he was sorry for asking, when Torin lashed out and grabbed his shirt, dragging him down with a cry of ‘look out’ that caused him to shiver. Anything that made Torin frightened or startled must be, by order of nature, something terrible to be feared. He jerked his head away from Torin’s chest where the archangel held it immobile to see what was attacking.

In truth, he didn’t know what it was. Long, lithe streams of black that reminded him terribly of tentacles were seeping from the earth through cracks that weren’t really cracks. The street, thankfully, was deserted as whatever it touched seemed to grow old with rust and disintegrate, as if the aging process was accelerated to a phenomenal rate.

“Where’s…where’s its body?!” he demanded, almost affronted that it wouldn’t show itself if it had the gall to attack in the first place.

Torin’s arm went around his waist before he knew what was happening and then suddenly he was in the air. It took a few seconds for his brain to catch up and he realized that the archangel had given a mighty leap off the ground. What kept them in the air were white wings on Torin’s back. Torin himself looked completely different. His eyes were an even more vibrant shade of gold, seeming to glow almost on their own. His hair had turned pure white, falling down to his knees with a satin gold tie to gather the strands loosely together at his waist. Instead of armor, like he’d expected, the cloth Torin wore was white, edged in gold, and would have made a fashion designer swoon.

He had little more time for details as Torin dodged, lightning quick, to the left when one of the tentacles lashed out, reaching for Watanuki. No matter how far they flew, they continued to grow until now he was beginning to get a little frantic.

“Kimihiro, you’re going to have to fly on your own. I can’t attack while I hold you and you can’t go back on the ground. My guess is that its body is beneath the earth.”

“So it’s not a spirit?”

“I’m…not sure what it is.”

That was _hardly_ reassuring. “B-But I don’t know how!”

“To fly? Didn’t Yuuko teach you how to reach your wings?”

 _Not really_ , he thought wryly, as she had had far more fun laughing at his failed attempts to make them go away than telling him how to make them appear. _Going to rip another shirt, I just know it. And it probably will end up irreparably damaged and have to be tossed. Just great._

“Just think about them, envision them unfurling at your beck and call. It’s that simple.” The air swished in front of him as Torin violently jerked back to avoid another tentacle. “Hurry!”

And just like that, Torin dropped him. He screeched as he began plummeting toward the ground and the first thought in his head was wings to stop his fall. Just a simple thought, just the single word of ‘wings’ in his head, and a peaceful calm struck him. He no longer screamed as he went down because he wasn’t _going_ down. He didn’t even register the ripping of his shirt that had happened in only seconds as his three-tiered wings appeared.

Torin only had one pair.

“Now stay out of its way, Kimihiro and let me handle this. Better yet, go to your boyfriend.”

“I can’t leave you here!” he protested frantically. He wanted to say more, but the thoughts died on his lips as Torin began a controlled dive, a sword flicking in his hand from out of nowhere. He didn’t really know swords so he didn’t know what kind it was, only that Torin used it in one hand. It was remarkable the speed that Torin moved at, almost completely untraceable by the naked eye. The determined and yet decidedly calm expression on his face, given what he now knew about Torin, was expected. After all, if he’d been in that Great War that they’d talked about, there was nothing to fear from this thing, right?

Watanuki’s introspection almost cost him when he barely noticed in time the black tentacle that snuck around behind him. He’d hardly taken lessons in flight school before and ended up in something _less_ than a controlled dive and more like a free fall. His frantic, mental commands to the wings he had were all over the place in panic and none of them knew what to do. It was like having six people trying to row, but they all were doing it a different way and not working together.

“Kimihiro!”

Torin’s frenzied voice registered barely seconds before he hit the bench, shattering its wood in three pieces and causing untold pain in his whole body. He convulsed, curled into a little ball, barely able to keep his eyes open, and moaned weakly. He didn’t even have the attention span to be alarmed when three tentacles, which he’d sworn Torin sliced in half before, hovered over him threateningly.

Only to grab Torin instead, who had gotten in the way on purpose. He wanted to yell at him for doing so, but he couldn’t make his voice work. His vision was hazy too and the only thought, as terrible as it was, in his head was that he was glad it wasn’t Doumeki there instead.

Torin made little cries of pain that pierced his heart but even as he tried sitting up, the tentacles suddenly formed mouths on their tips and let out black blasts that resembled much in size to beach balls, only deadlier by a thousand fold. And they were heading straight for Torin. The archangel couldn’t move to defend himself, he saw, because his arms were pinned to his sides in what he could never mistake as anything other than a painful way.

“Torin…san…” They were too fast, going too fast. If he so much as blinked, they’d be gone and Torin would be injured, or worse, dead.

They never hit him.

\--  
Think Yue of CCS, his outfit, only with shoes and pure white with gold edging. Don't think I modeled Torin off him, I just really liked his outfit. (Why it's not armor will be explained at a later time). Plus, hair isn't as long as Yue's was either.


	7. Forogj, világ!

The attack had happened quickly, barely enough time for Torin to even react. If he hadn’t looked up at that second to tell the young boy beside him that it was okay to ask questions, he wouldn’t have seen a strange glow. He didn’t see it like Kimihiro, he guessed, and was rather glad of it. What he saw was no doubt much worse.

As a celestial, his vision was much more in tune to life and this thing was made of pure death. Slime seemed to just roll off it in waves and black scales that shimmered a sickening green actually seemed to soak in the rays of sunlight that came down, rather than harming it as he would have suspected. More and more tentacles pushed up from the ground as he floated in the air, and gritted his teeth at its cowardly actions of hiding main, probably most vulnerable, part of itself still underground.

It did not _feel_ like a demon and certainly demons did not have the regenerative ability that this creature did. It was more than just a spirit, but less substantial than a human, demon, or angel. Had a demon created it perhaps? Nothing and no one in heaven would ever create such a thing and it was not done by Nature, or God. So what was it?

Frustrating was a mild word he felt when no matter how many times and how many pieces he would cut the tentacles, they would only grow back within seconds. It would have become simple and quick had he been able to reach the main body, but he had no idea how far it might go beneath the earth, or even if it _was_ in this particular realm to begin with.

He had acted before he thought when he saw Watanuki slammed into the bench. Why had he decided to attack, rather than take the boy himself to where he’d be safe? Because running was not his first instinct and now Watanuki was paying for that. The pain he felt as tentacles slimed over him, sending small but multitudes of electricity through his body, was a small price to pay for his mistake.

When he saw, and felt, the gathering of magic, waves of disgust rolled off him. It felt like a perversion, the kind that only an archangel would ever feel. This had nothing to do with demons, this was worse. Demons, for better or worse, were the foil to angels. He had realized over the years that for such beings as him to exist, there had to be a counterpart. There never could be demons without angels or angels without demons. This, on the other hand, reeked of an evilness that he’d never known. It had nothing to do with demons, of that he was sure. What it actually was, though, remained unclear to him.

Torin had braced himself for the shattering impact of the orbs of magic, but they never hit him. Instead, they splashed harmlessly off a shield that was not of his making. For a second, he didn’t even look to see who’d erected it, but took the opportunity that had been given him to beg the sky for lightning. He’d avoided using his magic, his God-given gifts, for so long that he feared there would be no response.

Yet, there was immediate action, as if it had been waiting desperately for his call for ages. It felt familiar and warm and even though he became the center of the short, quick lightning storm, he felt no pain. Only a welcoming-home sort of feeling.

“Honestly, you’re helpless. Despite your lightshow just then, you wouldn’t have even had the chance to cast it without help!”

The derisive voice he knew even before turning around. Orphée’s red eyes glinted at him and he looked entirely calm amid the tentacles that had taken to surrounding him, as if he didn’t care. He shrugged his black jacket higher in what seemed to be a habitual gesture and gave the creature his own assessing glance. “Seriously, celestials! Completely overconfident!”

“Confidence had nothing to do with it,” he replied coolly, in his business-like tone that clearly stated that this was not the time for this conversation. “Kimihiro needed protection.”

“That doesn’t seem to be necessary anymore.”

He glanced over his shoulder at Orphée’s gesture and noticed that at some point in the last few seconds, Kimihiro’s significant other had arrived and was carrying as gently as he could, the boy away from the fight. The distraction gone, Torin hefted his longsword in his hand more securely and launched into flight again. Now he could move much more freely to at least for the creature away from the city and perhaps back where it came from.

“You don’t think you’ll win, do you?”

Torin didn’t answer, only beginning his attack again. Instinct kicked back in and within seconds, lightning coated the edge of his blade as if it were a poison. He didn’t hear it screech in pain when he connected, but he did see it recoil in extreme dislike. Before, with just his cutting, it hadn’t paid it any attention.

“You are _so_ bloody stubborn and fool-hardy. You’re not even wearing your stupid armor! Here, if you _must_ …!”

Like a black storm, Orphée was in action that he couldn’t help but watch in fascination. He hadn’t even shifted out of his less powerful, human-like form back to his full demon aspect and yet he was so fast, not a single tentacle even got close. It was almost like he was dancing in the air, defying gravity even as he did not his wings, which Torin now vividly remembered he had.

The last thing he wanted to do was let Orphée know he was the angel that had spared his life, given what he’d heard when he’d met the demon.

Like a pulsation in the very fabric of the air, something left Orphée’s hands as he twisted in the air and brought his wrists together. It focused and flew to the ground, like invisible ripples, and all of the tentacles, which had come to be numbered in the twenties, were slammed against the ground with such force the earth trembled.

Orphée grabbed a lamppost before he hit the ground and smirked in satisfaction. “If it can’t see with its fingers, make the head come up, fool.”

Only then did Torin realize that had he been on the ground, he would have been blinded. It shouldn’t have been surprising, given Orphée’s chosen name. Status effects, especially blindness, he seemed to have excelled at.

“I didn’t see any eyes.”

“Every single scale it had was its eyes.”

He frowned, not liking how Orphée seemed to know so much about the creature. He didn’t think the demon had created it, but he couldn’t be sure. Even if he didn’t hate demons, he didn’t trust them, not after what Lucifer had done. “How did you know?”

Orphée, who had not looked up at him once from his staring at the still, for the moment, limbs, didn’t answer. Torin would have pressed more, except that he could _hear_ the rumbling of the earth. He even felt the very air around him shiver, as if in repulsion, and suddenly eyes had appeared amid the now destroyed road. Glowing, sickly green, like the faint light that the scales gave off.

Torin shivered before he could help it and Orphée shifted to sit on the lamppost more comfortably. “Well, what are you waiting for? There it is, so be all, archangel away!” There was a pause. “And really, seriously, where’s the armor? All the archangels I’ve ever seen wear even the damn helmet! I’d be surprised if they took it off to sleep!”

He didn’t want to tell Orphée, and so didn’t, that his armor had been part of his price to pay for his wish. To give himself a reason not to answer, he merely rushed down to that small opening in the earth where the eyes glared and sliced with his sword. It didn’t take much to dodge the tentacles as they seemed strangely lethargic now.

It was the first time he’d ever seen something bleed blackish green. Even demons bled as red as angels and humans did. He barely managed not to get his robes stained, as he had no idea what it would do to them or him. It could be poisonous for all he knew.

Silence remained as the creature died and before his eyes began to dissolve into the slime that coated it. He frowned, glad no other humans had thought to come this way in the short, quick battle. But without a doubt, though, that had alerted both Heaven and Hell where he and Orphée were hiding. Soon enough, they would be coming to find him and demand why he’d suddenly disappeared.

Soon, but not now. He didn’t want it here, in front of Orphée.

“Why did you help me when you seem to have such contempt for my very existence?” he asked, landing and reassuming his human disguise with difficulty. It was just so natural to be in his angelic form that it almost hurt to go back to the confining body and spell he had to wear. Even after so many years, it was still difficult…

Orphée leapt down on the ground with the quickness and grace of a panther and shrugged again. “Wouldn’t have if Yuuko, stupid brat that she is, hadn’t ordered me too. Told me to ‘look out for Torin’, along with her little kids there. Probably did it just to annoy me because she _knows_ I don’t want to.”

His stupefied stare at the demon’s back as he went away refused to be pulled away. _So Yuuko told him to look after me? Just like…she told me to look after him?_

\---

 _What is that woman think she’s playing at?! Telling me to watch over that stupid, idiotic angel!_ Contrary to the cool expression on Orphée’s face as he walked away, he was seething inside. He had a deadline for his publishing firm due in three days and he had to get out the remaining 150 pages of his 300-page book before then. _Just calling me out of the blue and **demanding** I run my ass off to save those two! Lucky for me I’m fast enough to make a side trip._

He’d been on his way, detouring, to get Doumeki Shizuka, but had been met halfway. Apparently he’d seen some of what was happening through the eye he shared with his boyfriend, but had no idea where to go. Simple enough to guide him, then, as he had known instantly where they needed to go. He could feel it in the very air, as it was tainted by something even demons found disgusting.

Whether angels and God wanted to admit it, demons were _natural_ beings, born completely normally by the supernatural. To maintain a balance, when angels were created, there had to be something to oppose it and thus, so were demons created. At the time when the world was so new, when angels were new, the supernatural was still in its infancy and had been only able to create the most minimal of intelligent ones. It was only later that more advanced ones came about, with more thought capacity.

He had been one of the greatest successes, or so many had told him at the time, as there hadn’t even been a handful like him with reasoning, mental powers.

But this creature wasn’t like that. Something or someone had artificially created it. Whether that someone was human, demon, or even fallen angel, he didn’t know. What bothered, and slightly scared him though he’d never admit it, was that the person who had had enough power to do such a thing had to be on that brat Yuuko’s level.

His bad mood had developed into an introspective one and he didn’t even slam the door behind him as he entered his house. He didn’t really have neighbors anymore, except the most patient and introverted kind that didn’t care if he was in a bad mood and was noisy, slamming his things around, or played loud music when the mood hit him.

This was definitely a not good twist in the situation. And to make matters worse, he’d used his magic. He’d avoided doing so for years upon years, because the moment he did, _they’d_ find him. This time he was less worried about the angels of Heaven finding him than he was about the demons of Hell. Lucifer _might_ understand his reasons for becoming a recluse in the human world, but he doubted many others would. They’d hound his doorstep for years to get him to come back. They wouldn’t have the power to force him to return, only Lucifer and now Yuuko could, but they’d make themselves a complete nuisance.

He wished he could change, get rid of the constant reminder and gaping hole in his heart that was left after the war so he could return to Hell, but the very idea caused him to balk every time. Something about Hell now disturbed and upset him and he had a good suspicion of what it was.

Demons had changed. There were very little demons left that were of the OLD kind, that weren’t more than beasts. Now, the young demons were so proud of themselves for their little victories over the angels that they could get, pestering and annoying them just for the sake of it because they ‘hated’ them. What they did was hardly little more than tricks. They complained of the hard times, but they didn’t _know_ hard times. They hadn’t seen the devastation of the War, known the fact that the demons had been nearly _wiped out_ by the archangels.

They didn’t know _true_ pain. Their punishments for the humans that called them were hardly inventive and not exactly what he would call ‘eternal torment’. True, there were not many mortals that had enough magic to call such a powerful demon like a war veteran, but all the same…things were different.

“I’m all maudlin now,” he muttered in annoyance and went to his computer to finish his book before his editor came to harass him, a demon of a woman if he ever saw one. She was human, true, but she would hardly be out of place in Hell, he often thought, somewhat fondly. “Slave driver.”

Much like someone _else_ he knew, he thought a lot _less_ fondly and across town, Yuuko sneezed.  



	8. Running Out Of Days

Recovering from his injuries took time, though less time than he would have expected. According to Doumeki and Yuuko, he’d slept for two days. Torin had healed him as best he could, which wasn’t altogether surprising. He was an archangel and he would have been surprised if he didn’t have a magical spell to heal injuries. Though Torin assured him that it was only a small one and wasn’t a cure all, he still thought it was pretty amazing.

_“We have to talk.”_

That was what he was doing, currently sitting in Doumeki’s temple across from his boyfriend’s grim face. He was expecting a lecture from the archer and though he’d formulated his defense in his mind, he still wasn’t looking forward to it. Things were just so hectic and confusing and stressing lately that he didn’t have much energy at all. He never got a break, to just sit and relax and not think about anything.

“Well?” he demanded irritably when Doumeki didn’t say anything for a while.

“Is that demon right? You’re feeling guilty about Kunogi’s death?”

Watanuki was stumped for a second, his carefully prepared arguments falling apart. He had expected this ‘discussion’ to be about that fight, which he had had no control over, not about the talk with Orphée over two weeks ago. He’d carefully avoided thinking about it because he knew the demon was right.

Feeling unaccountably guilty that he was exposed that he _was_ feeling guilty about Himawari’s death, he fell back onto his trademark defense. Though it had never worked before, maybe if he yelled enough, it would distract Doumeki from the real question. “Is _that_ what you dragged me from school, away from work and my apartment, to ask me?” he demanded. “Why was this so important—”

“Are you?”

So much for that theory. Well, it had never worked before and he’d never really thought it’d work this time either. “It’s none of your business!” He was trying to avoid telling Doumeki. Actually, he was trying to subtly put distance between them to avoid hurting his boyfriend. It was the one decision he’d made the last few weeks that he thought was a good one. He didn’t want to think what would happen to Doumeki if they stayed together.

“I’m making it my business,” Doumeki growled and if he didn’t know better, Watanuki would have said that the archer was losing his temper. Doumeki grabbed his hands tightly, looking so determined that he knew the boy wouldn’t let him leave the temple until he’d gotten what he’d wanted.

Annoyed, he tried jerking his hands free, to no avail. “Would you let me go?! I said it’s not your business and it’s _not_ your business!”

“Kimihiro, what am I to you?” Doumeki sounded so hurt that Watanuki felt even guiltier. “I love you and you’re cutting me out of your life.”

Wasn’t he the perceptive one? Watanuki blanched. His mind told him that he needed, loved, Doumeki more than ever, but he couldn’t bear it if something happened. It had been brought home to him with Himawari’s sacrifice that nothing was sacred anymore. If Himawari could die, then that chance for Doumeki was twice the danger. “Look, Shizuka…”

“Don’t say it!” Quickly, he was practically dragged across the table for a kiss, but it wasn’t like their normal ones. This one was a little desperate, a little pleading. And yet, as always, it left him breathless enough for his boyfriend to continue. “I’m not leaving and you’re not going to do this. You can’t use Kunogi’s death as an excuse to justify your fear.”

“Who says I am?!” he defended, ignoring the fact that Doumeki was mostly right.

“What else could you be doing?” Doumeki frowned. “She’s not gone forever and you know what she’d say if she saw you like this.”

He knew. Though she’d be nicer than Yuuko, he still knew she’d get mad at him for using her as an excuse to run away. Some legendary archangel he was. Sighing, losing his fight, he slumped in his seat. “Fine, fine.”

“Don’t do that!” The snapped tone made Watanuki wince and look up in surprise. “It’s not like you! You can’t shut me out. You need to talk to me!”

Given that he wasn’t going to be getting out of it, Watanuki told him in detail. By the end of it, he was crying and Doumeki was holding him. He didn’t really want to explain, especially not to Yuuko, what happened after that.

\---

The next time Orphée saw Watanuki, he noticed that something was different. The wound on his soul he had seen was slightly smaller. It wasn’t festering quite so much. In fact, though it didn’t seem much smaller, it didn’t seem to be getting any worse. His eyes narrowed a little, studying the atmosphere between the two boys, and a smirk touched his mouth. “Not so virgin oil anymore, huh?” he muttered to himself.

“What?”

Of course, the smirk vanished when Torin’s voice assaulted his ears. “I said _why_ do I have to be stuck here with you? I can do research on my own, thank you very much!”

Yuuko had, of course, decided to take out her frustrations on him. He privately decided that it was her period making her pissy. _Shoving me together with the stupid celestial is torture! Her excuse is so full of holes! Telling me that it’s because we both know what it looks like better than her little protégé!_ He resentfully stared at the two boys walking obliviously down the street away from them.

Torin shrugged, as if he didn’t care, but it would be impossible for the archangel to _not_ feel annoyed and upset like Orphée was, he thought. Yuuko had decided to annoy him further by not telling him her real reason for putting them together. “Look, let’s make this easier. You go do your research and I’ll go do mine and we’ll meet back here in about five hours.”

His companion frowned. “I don’t mind, but Yuuko said to do this together and you know how—”

“She gets?” he finished sarcastically. “Grow a backbone, Torin!” Torin frowned at the insult and glared, making Orphée feel better. Just spreading more of the delightful love, he thought with dark amusement. “I won’t tell her and neither will you. Besides, my ‘research buddies’ won’t be happy to see _you_.”

He was beginning to get the feeling that he didn’t know a damn thing about Torin. It wasn’t that he wanted to know, but he was observant. He was noticing that Torin always kept a noncommittal attitude with him lately whenever they talked, which told him that Torin was thinking something and it probably was…not good. At least for him. And though he told himself he didn’t want to know, he figured that the person he saw in Torin wasn’t his real personality.

Torin didn’t need much more convincing and turned to go. Orphée waited until he was out of sight and then hurried down to one of the seediest bars that could be found in the district. He knew some Imps that ran it and they knew just about everything happening in the town, magical and not magical. Confidently, he entered, causing all the heads in the quiet bar to swivel toward them. Most were assessing, probably his value and if he had anything worth taking, others merely curious. For those that were thinking dangerous things, he smiled with pointed teeth, meeting each gaze and daring them. Like usual, they merely turned away.

Too bad. He wouldn’t object to a fight. Torin had that effect on him.

“So…where are they?” he asked the bartender, who jerked this thumb at the back door that no one but ‘special’ customers were allowed. He blew a confident and smug kiss at those left behind and sauntered in. Only the supernaturally inclined were welcome in the back and the imps who ran the poker game disliked any celestial. He’d only known one who’d managed to get in and he’d been a Fallen Angel that had proven his ‘worth’.

Orphée didn’t even want to know what he’d had to do.

His presence was welcomed by backslapping and dragging him into the chair for the game. Knowing rules of etiquette with the group, he had to play before he could ask questions. The game was what was important, everything else came after or near the end. Thanks to the Imps, he had gotten especially good and his ‘poker face’ was one of the best in the business, as he perpetually looked smug, which always unnerved his opponents since they couldn’t tell if he was bluffing that he had a good hand or not.

“You guys know of something really powerful moving lately?” he asked, a good hour into the game and tossing out two cards for more dealt to him.

There was a pregnant pause of the game and silence and finally one of the tiny Imps answered, “Yeah. Big enough to take down both heaven and hell.”

Now _that_ was frightening. If not even heaven and hell could take it down then that meant one thing… “Working together the only way?”

“Oracle says so.”

“The world is doomed,” the Fallen Angel, DeMarco he called himself for whatever reason, joked weakly.

“I’d have to agree,” Orphée said, staring at his cards but not really seeing them. He was too busy thinking. “What about the human wish granters?”

“Maybe she could, maybe she can’t. Her predecessor could, but it’d cost him her life.” That wasn’t a good sign either. As much as he disliked her, he didn’t want to think she’d die over this just yet. DeMarco folded his hand until all that was left among those at the table was he and the Imp. They refused names, so he often couldn’t tell the five apart. “Why’d you ask?”

Orphée frowned, knowing it was only polite to answer, but didn’t really want to. “I was dragged into this mess against my will. I wanted to know my chances.” He paused and tried to ask casually, “Got any idea who might be behind it?”

“Rumor has it it’s not a demon or an fallen angel.”

“Real celestial?”

“Nope.”

“Human then,” he stated flatly, refusing to fold even though he’d probably lose with his hand. “Even worse. Humans are generally more powerful by themselves because of their versatility.”

“Yup,” was the answer from the whole table at the same time, complete with a long-suffering sigh. Though everyone there disliked humans, they couldn’t deny that they were a fact of life and often very difficult to reckon with when they had power.

“Gonna fold, Orphée?”

“You know the answer to that,” he replied, knowing all that those in the room knew. It was early, too early, to know specifics and he knew these guys well enough to know that they’d not hold back on him. They trusted him.

The Imp frowned. “Fine. I fold.” Seeing the cards, Orphée thought it was thanks to his confident attitude that he’d won the match. A two-pair didn’t beat a full house, not at all. When he showed his hand, the rest cursed his good luck and he grinned. “Time to go, boys,” he said and headed out.

“Careful, Orphée. This is bigger than Heaven, Hell, and Earth. You really could die this time.”

Orphée nodded his understanding of the Imp’s words, knowing that they were worried. He knew that this was probably their last game for a while as they all went into hiding until it was all over. If it was bad enough to force these guys to disappear from awhile, who loved the poker game so much they couldn’t go a single day without it, then it must be very huge. This didn’t bode well at all.  



	9. Shed Some Light

If anyone had suggested to Torin that he might find Orphée interesting when they’d first met, he would have said they were insane. A month and a half later in their reluctant working relationship, he was beginning to think that he might actually…like Orphée. It was a strange thing, to think he went from hate to like in such a short time. For humans it might seem relatively long, but for celestials and demons, it was a mere pittance. To think he didn’t quite mind Orphée’s company was a shocking thing.

Of course Orphée seemed to hate him as he always did, but Torin was an avid observer and he knew enough to know that he didn’t know what Orphée thought at all.

When they’d met a week ago after their ‘research trips’, Torin had been dismayed to find that they had the same basic answers and it didn’t bode well. There was no way that Heaven and Hell would ever work together, even for the common good. Well…if Jesus had his way, he thought they might, but of course if it was ever found out WHY the Son of God would work together with demons came out he thought Heaven might implode.

Yuuko didn’t, however, seem all that surprised at the news, nor that worried. He frowned, wondering if he’d have to get back into the main stream of things in Heaven. Already he was getting the feeling he was being followed and the only ones that would be able to follow him as well as they were would be a celestial or demon and he’d know instinctively if it were a demon. Orphée also seemed exceptionally jumpy.

“Is there something wrong?”

Orphée glared at him, frowning in what Torin figured he was supposed to take as not being happy to be stuck with him again. And maybe, he granted, Orphée was a bit justified, as this WAS his home and didn’t want an archangel there. “Well isn’t that the million dollar question. Of course there’s something wrong, idiot! They’ve _found_ me and I’m not happy to say that that doesn’t make me feel good.”

“The other demons?”

Orphée suspiciously peered out of his window and nodded glumly. “They haven’t approached me yet, but I _know_ they’re out there.” The demon sighed and flopped back onto the sofa, stretching out, while Torin watched from his seat in a chair. “I gotta say, me and you got the short end of the stick this time, archangel.”

“Why’s that?” he asked curiously, and a bit cautiously. Orphée was talking to him more, which he found he liked, but he was also hesitant to say anything lest it break whatever reason it might be that caused such a thing to happen.

“Well, think about it. The Walking Pheromone has got himself a bodyguard and behind that is Yuuko. They don’t care whether Heaven or Hell gets involved, because when it’s all over, they won’t have to worry about it anymore. When Heaven and Hell find us involved, do you really think they’ll leave us alone when the crisis is all over? All my years of hiding out in plain sight GONE down the drain.”

“I must admit, that’s true,” Torin agreed with a sigh.

“Say…what was your price?”

He looked into those intrigued burgundy eyes and felt his stomach do a minor flip. Orphée had flipped over to peer at him, as if not caring about how personal the question was. Then again, he already knew what Orphée’s price was. Yuuko had told him and it didn’t appear if Orphée cared if he knew. “It was…in two parts, I suppose you could say. The first was that I had to be available if she needed my help, no matter what I was doing, and the second was my armor.” Was he _actually_ having a decent conversation with Orphée?

“Seriously? I’m surprised you parted with it, as all you celestials seemed to love that crap like it’s a security blanket.” Well…perhaps not decent in the strict definition of the term, but insults were part of Orphée’s being, so he didn’t take it to heart. It was just how he talked.

“I admit that I was extremely fond of my armor, but that’s why she asked for it. I suppose I’m lucky she didn’t ask for anything more than those two things.”

“You’re just a bit dense,” was the reply, but there seemed to be a mix of amused pity for Torin in his gaze, as if it were a fond despair of his intelligence. “That’s all she SAYS she’s taking, but it’s always more, you know. You have to deal in specifics. If she said to you, ‘go and have sex with Orphée’ you wouldn’t be able to say no because she made such broad terms. So long as she said it would ‘help’ her in some way to have sex with me, you’d have to do it.”

Torin had gotten used to Orphée’s blatant speaking, but the suggestion of doing such an intimate act with Orphée didn’t bring the expected result. It caused, oddly enough, butterflies in his stomach. Celestials were pure creatures, but that didn’t mean they didn’t do such an act. The only difference was that for angels, they could only physically react to such stimuli for someone they CARED about. Would he, if they were put in that situation, react? It was beginning to terrify him that he no longer thought of ‘putting up with’ Orphée, but just…being around him.

“See?” Orphée continued, mistaking his shocked silence as disgust. “You should have been more aware before accepting those terms. I don’t think she’d do that, but at least you get the point.” He had that smug grin that when they’d met, Torin had hated but now…didn’t, and patted his shoulder. “Fine, fine. I take pity on you. Next time she has some terms for you, bring me along and I’ll negotiate. ‘Course, it’ll cost you. Then again, paying ME is significantly less painful than paying her. All you’d have to do is pay me a fee for negotiation itself.”

“What exactly would that entail?” he muttered, trying not to think about all the things that he could ask for.

“Well, for starters, since I just KNOW she’s going to ask you something, when she does, your payment will be my excuse to my editor.”

“…Excuse for your…editor?”

Orphée stood and went to his kitchen, coming back out with a beer and taking a long guzzle from it before answering. He didn’t offer one to Torin because they both knew he would refuse. “Yeah. You wouldn’t believe it, but my job is writing books. I got roped into it and my editor is as close to a devil as can be while still being purely human. I swear, I think she should have a _whip_.”

That piqued his curiosity. “What sort of books?”

The demon frowned and as if he couldn’t bear to say the words, he tossed a book from his bookshelf onto the table in front of Torin. Just looking at the cover caused him to flush in embarrassment and shock. “Romance novels?” When Orphée blanched and nudged it closer with a foot as if it would bite him, Torin got an even better look and frankly thought he’d die on the spot. “MALE romance novels?”

“Gah, I don’t know!” he screeched, ranting as if he’d been waiting for this opportunity to do so for ages. “I _hate_ romance novels. Even Lucifer thinks that it’s pure torture and won’t ever let it in Hell! He has a special area for any writers that do this stuff and go to Hell, a special hell! And it’s not like I even _like_ men! I mean, I can do it if necessary, done it _once_ , but I prefer women! And so how I end up doing this is beyond me! And that damn editor of mine refuses to give me anything else to write because she says that my works are ‘wonderfully dark, seductive, and hugely popular’!”

“And how…?” he managed around a constriction in his throat that he didn’t understand.

“I always look for excuses not to write and I can say you’re a…friend from out of town and that I have to look after you.” Orphée looked a bit contemplative for a second. “Farfetched, but plausible. All you need to do is act like you don’t hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

Orphée laughed and kicked him lightly in the knee as he drank his beer. “And I thought angels couldn’t lie!”

“We can’t,” he whispered, but Orphée didn’t hear him. He wasn’t sure he wanted to right then.

\---

The first time Watanuki saw an angel that wasn’t Torin was on his way home from school. All he could remember later was that the sheer light of his aura had blinded him and left him dazed. Unlike Torin who seemed to want to hide as much of his power as he could to remain under Heaven’s sight, this one didn’t seem to care. And he was absolutely, stunningly gorgeous.

When questioned about it by Torin, Orphée, and Yuuko, all he could say was that he’d been asked a lot of questions. None he could remember. Torin frowned and Watanuki heard him mutter something about a charm spell. He’d gotten used to thinking of archangels as being much like Torin, upstanding people that were compassionate and pure. Now he was beginning to get a little afraid of them to. Charm spells? It seemed so…insidious, unlike demons, which always gave the impression of just coming straight at you if they were going to hit you.

Doumeki stuck closer to him than usual and rarely left him alone, but that was okay. He was beginning to feel a little less guilty now. Yuuko had shown him the vial with Himawari’s spirit in it, though she’d said it was against her better judgment, and it had…eased something inside of him. Just that soft, pure light reassured him that nothing bad seemed to be happening to her as she floated calmly in there.

The fact that there wasn’t another attack seemed to be putting everyone on edge. Orphée seemed to be having his own problems and was even shorter tempered than before. Torin often looked either heavily worried or lost in contemplation. There was a strange atmosphere between the angel and demon and he thought that maybe it was their dislike escalating, but as if she didn’t care about that, Yuuko kept forcing them together. At first he’d thought it was much like himself and Doumeki in the beginning, but then realized that it wasn’t at all. Watanuki had only ever really found Doumeki annoying and Doumeki had never hated him. Orphée and Torin were something like ‘racial enemies’. How could there be anything but hate between them?

Yuuko’s only comment when he asked her about it was ‘there is a fine line between love and hate’. Knowing her as well as he did, he figured she was in matchmaker mode again and despite the tension in the very air as of late, he worried about the two. When he had a chance, he sought out the archangel, as he was closer to Torin and figured that he’d at least listen. He still wasn’t sure how to deal with Orphée yet and he was also quite hard to catch. He’d disappear for days on end and then suddenly pop back up as if he’d never been gone.

All he’d ever say about it was that he was ‘working on the damn crisis’.

Torin spent most of his time in secluded, nature-like areas, generally where there were many trees. Maybe he liked the beauty of the leaves or the way that he could hear the wind ruffle through the branches. They’d spent the three months they’d known each other learning about each other and yet, he thought with fondness, Doumeki never liked it. Watanuki thought he was jealous and it made him happy to think so because it meant that he was loved.

“Torin-san?”

Torin looked up from his book when he approached and then quickly hid what he was reading. Watanuki didn’t want to pry, when it was obvious that Torin didn’t want anyone to know, so he pretended he hadn’t seen the hurried motion. “What is it, Kimihiro?”

Watanuki sat down next to him on the dirt. “I just…thought I should warn you. About Yuuko-san. She’s, uh…well…I think she’s putting you together with Orphée-san a lot because…I think she’s trying to do matchmaking. I have no proof, but I’ve worked for her long enough to recognize it, I think.”

For a second, Torin’s expression didn’t change and then he smiled, but Watanuki swore he thought it looked a little strained with mixed emotions at its edges. “I don’t think you need to worry about that, Kimihiro. She knows that that would be futile. There can’t be any love between angel and demon, so there’s no need to worry. Everything will be fine.”

“Then why do you sound so sad?”

There was no answer to his question.  
\---

As you can probably guess now, yes Torin and Orphée are an item...sooner or later. :) I threw in a bit of TorinxWatanuki to throw people off, but I think a few of you got the scent real early :p


	10. New Allegiance

The tension of the air, so thick it could have been cut like a knife, didn’t last much longer. The build-up over the last few weeks seemed to have changed from a slow-paced and methodical stride, to a frenzied run. The occasional appearances he’d seen of an angel or demon had escalated until there was one on Watanuki’s doorstep every morning. The first time it had happened with an angel, he’d been stunned, flustered, and frankly stammered his way through questions he later didn’t recall, as usual. After that, any angel or demon he found waiting for him as he was leaving for school got the usual, curt answer as he passed: “No.”

He knew now what each of them wanted. He was, apparently, fair game and they believed that if they could somehow get him on their side, they could win. At what he didn’t know. Maybe restarting the war between Heaven and Hell. Maybe against this invisible foe. Watanuki didn’t know and he wasn’t much sure he _wanted_ to. He had his own problems at the moment that were far more pressing.

School was a whole lot harder now this year as teachers gave more work. Doumeki was vice-captain of his archery team and was made to practice a lot longer hours than either of them would like, leaving Watanuki to walk home either with Orphée or Torin, or risk it alone by himself.

Maybe what bothered him the most was that there hadn’t been a single stray spirit following him for weeks, even when he was alone. It was like they were hiding, afraid of what was looming ahead. Whether it was because of his past as an archangel, he didn’t know, but he could feel it strumming in his bones. Something was going to happen soon, very imminently soon. He didn’t sleep at night and his thoughts were scattered all over the place so that he even ended up burning his dinner once.

Nor did it help that Yuuko herself was showing signs of stress. She hardly drank and often secluded herself to her magic or books, pouring over texts that had handwriting so small it wasn’t even legible to Watanuki. Even during the incident with the crown, things hadn’t gotten this bad. She’d always maintained a semblance of self-control, always had that easy grin on her face.

When she finally told him that he should stay at the shop instead of going home, he put his foot down. The weeks had taken their toll and he _knew_ that Torin, Orphée, and Yuuko had to have found something if they were so unanimously in agreement and looking so grim.

“ _WHY?_ Yuuko-san, _tell me_ what it is that’s hunting me! I know it’s after me, I can feel it, so tell me what it is! I deserve to know!”

Doumeki merely grunted behind him in agreement, leaning against the wall. It might have appeared as if he was the same as always, but Watanuki could see how tense he was, how his dusky amber eyes were dark with attention on the wish-granter. By now, he knew just about every move and what it meant when it came to his boyfriend and it was like seeing an open book in front of him.

For a moment, Yuuko didn’t say anything and swirled the water with her fingertips in an elaborate, silver bowl at her side that the twins had brought in and were sitting beside. Even Mokona was quiet. Her burgundy gaze, a shade so different than the blood red of Orphée’s demonic one, finally looked up at him. This time, however, she didn’t look tired. She looked very aware, very serious, and almost energetic. He hadn’t seen her this way for nearly a month.

“Watanuki, your power doesn’t just encompass spirits. With your soul once a very powerful archangel, it will never be as simple as that.” She leaned forward a little, shifting her legs and her dark blue gown fell away to reveal their slimness. “With the right bit of manipulation of your aura and abilities, you can be a bridge between worlds.” When he opened his mouth to protest, she waved him silent. “Not like Mokona here. You can’t _go_ anywhere, nor can you send anyone anywhere. It’s more like a funnel to other…spiritual dimensions that can’t be accessed even by Mokona.”

“Perhaps I can explain better,” Torin interrupted when Watanuki only stared in blank confusion. “Yuuko explained to me the technicalities of Mokona and that’s not what she meant. Think of Heaven and Hell. They are not _strictly_ part of this reality, though they are in this world. There is no way to reach them unless you are either dead or an angel or demon. Even if you are dead, you have no choice in where you can go. You will be put there, so you have no free travel.” Torin paused and brushed his pale icy-blond hair from his face as he tried to find the best way to word it. “You are…something like a communication device to other worlds’ versions of Heaven and Hell. You are much like a conduit, the very center of a huge web, connecting other afterlife worlds to others that normally could not be accessed in any other way.”

“What exactly are you saying about Watanuki?” Doumeki asked when Torin didn’t say anything more for a minute. “And how does this relate to that creature that attacked him?”

Yuuko and Torin looked at Orphée, who glared at them and seemed loathe to talk during the exchange but had no choice. “Oh, so now you want me to say it bluntly, huh? Can’t figure out how to be _nice_ about this? Fine, I’ll see if I can hammer it into their skulls.” He turned to Watanuki, who flinched a little at the pointed and intense stare. “What it basically boils down to is you being a centerpiece connecting every single afterlife in every single dimension together. Someone around you, physically was near you, is manipulating your power and pulled that creature into this dimension to attack you. That’s why the celestial and me didn’t know what it was or that we’d ever come across it before.”

Watanuki’s knees gave out and he slumped to the floor. He’d always just thought that his ability to see spirits was such a…simple thing. He’d believed that Yuuko would grant his wish and they’d no longer hound him. Now he was getting the idea that maybe even she wasn’t able to get rid of it. That it was such an integral part of his soul, there _was_ no way of getting rid of this, if it was so all-encompassing.

“Why hasn’t there been an attack since?”

He barely heard Doumeki’s question, too shocked at his own depressing thoughts. His unseeing gaze saw Orphée shrug. “Who knows? Maybe he didn’t have enough power to do it immediately. Maybe it was all he could do at the time. Either way, he’s going to make another move soon, that much is obvious.”

“Why didn’t Watanuki notice? He didn’t feel faint or anything like that.”

Yuuko took over, picking up her pipe and tapping it against the wood of the nearby table to catch Watanuki’s attention. “Probably because he was very good at magic, but most likely I think it’s because Watanuki’s magic is so powerful that he can’t notice it. It’s much like a huge aura around him, like a palatable force in the very air. It wasn’t there until after his soul merged with the remnants of Zachariel. And I’m sure this person was being exceptionally subtle about this, siphoning off the energy so slowly and gradually that no one noticed. And because Watanuki’s power is also fueled by his very soul, what was taken was immediately regenerated by that, so I didn’t notice a dip in his power.”

Watanuki wanted to hit something, and hit it hard. Normally he didn’t have such violent tendencies, or so he’d like to think, but this was all too much. He _hated_ this sort of life, this not knowing if someone he met on the street was somehow more than just a regular person and was looking for a meal or thinking of ways to use him. It was frustrating that he couldn’t even so much as do one thing on his own. What was he supposed to do now, remained confined to the house for the rest of his life?! He refused to be cowed by this. He _refused_ to let this take over his life. He would not lay down and take this, not ever.

Orphée gave his determined expression a faint smile. “Looks like he’s reached his breaking point. If there’s one thing I learned about humans is that even the most laid-back sort have a point where they won’t take it anymore.” Though Torin and Yuuko seemed a little apprehensive, Orphée continued, moving forward to crouch in front of Watanuki with a dark grin on his face. “I figure it’s someone at your school, so you want to do something about it?”

He glanced over his shoulder at his boyfriend, who nodded imperceptibly and pursed his lips. Doumeki wanted this over as much as he did. Eyes turned back to Orphée’s almost smug look. “I’ll do it. I won’t live like this.”

\---

The next morning at school, the grounds were covered with whispers and stares as Watanuki approached, surrounded by Doumeki, Torin, and Orphée. Orphée, for all the fact that he appeared nonchalant, like he didn’t care, was seriously watching each and every student he saw. There was no other place that their enemy could be except in Watanuki’s school, because the boy didn’t go anywhere else besides Yuuko’s shop and home every day and that sort of siphoning took a long time to accomplish.

He paid no attention to what the two boys were telling a teacher who’d hurried up to them, gaze shifting to stare at the building. Several stories high, exceptionally long hallways, and completely unimpressive. He caught Torin’s eye, but after a few seconds, the archangel looked away. He frowned, irritated. As much as he held a lingering resentment for celestials, he had to admit that Torin had his respect. He worked just as hard as Orphée, and maybe, on one of Orphée’s better days, he would say that he almost liked him. But lately, the strong-willed and obstinate angel wouldn’t hold his gaze for more than a few seconds and he brooded an awful lot.

The demon huffed, stalking into the school when the teacher reluctantly had no choice but to let them pass. He was tempted to ask how they’d managed to convince the skeptical man, but decided he didn’t care enough. The two adults escorted Watanuki and Doumeki to their classroom, but only as far as that.

“You take the upper two floors, I’ll do the lower ones.” Torin nodded and as he turned away, Orphée’s voice stopped him in his tracks. “And when I come back, we’re going to have a chat. A nice, _long_ one, because right now you’re irritating the shit out of me.”

His search of the first two floors though yielded nothing of interest. Stares from the students and teachers alike caused his insides to shift and after having spent so much of his life hiding, he was extremely uncomfortable with the attention, though he’d never show it. He wasn’t even sure what to look for, trusting his instincts to know it when he saw it. Frowning, he ruffled his messy, vaguely spiky black hair and leaned against the wall in a nearby, shadowed corner to think. It was possible that he had passed the person by without knowing it, but he found that unlikely. Anyone that could have such an ability to siphon off Watanuki’s power would be very unique to his sight, or to Torin’s, that there would be no way to hide. You couldn’t just make those powerful kinds of bonds invisible to blend in.

A ringing bell interrupted him, but it wasn’t like the ones he’d learned signaled the end of a class. Especially since students were pouring out of the rooms like ants running from a flood. They held boxes in their hands and it dawned on him that this must be lunch. A perpetual scowl on his face, Orphée headed upstairs and met the two students and Torin halfway. Without being asked, Orphée insisted that they all went to the roof, as it would afford the best place to talk without being overheard. Torin had no objection and if he wasn’t mistaken, that eager look in his eyes said that he’d be more than happy.

Celestials and their obsession with heights.

Orphée remembered why he hated heights the moment he looked down over the railing at the earth far below him. It wasn’t exceptionally debilitating, but he was _not_ fond of it. Maybe it came from the fact that the demons were often secluded below the earth in Hell, or at least on ground level.

“You said you wanted to talk?”

He turned around at Torin’s soft voice and noticed that the archangel had shifted them away from Watanuki and Doumeki. Whether that was to give the two lovebirds, who hadn’t had any time to actually _be_ lovebirds in the last few months, some privacy or whether he didn’t want them overheard, he didn’t know. Either way, it didn’t necessarily make any impact on the discussion whether they were heard or not by the other two.

“Yeah, I did.” He leaned against the railing, keeping his back to the emptiness of sky and air so he wouldn’t have to think about just how far up he was. Torin, the bastard, seemed completely at ease and he swore if he looked closer, he’d seen a hint of longing in those eyes. “What’s the deal with you lately?”

“Deal?”

“Don’t look at me like you don’t know,” he snapped. “You _must_ have met with one of your celestial buddies and they told you to stay away from me, because you won’t even look at me lately. Now I’m not saying we have to be damn bosom buddies here, but we _do_ have to work together and I really hate it when you won’t even look me in the eye. It’s God damn courtesy.” Orphée cut off his rant before he really got going, as he did need to give Torin some space to reply and he’d get angry if he didn’t.

Torin winced a little at his cursing and taking the Lord’s name in vain, but otherwise didn’t comment on his slanderous behavior. “I didn’t meet them. I’ve been avoiding other archangels for a while now. I didn’t realize what I was doing and I apologize if I—”

“God damn it, don’t _do_ that!” he barked and Torin dodged a kick he leveled at his knee. He glared at Watanuki and Doumeki, who had curiously looked up at his outburst. Apparently deciding that a very angry demon was the last thing they wanted to deal with, their heads turned back to their lunch without comment. His burning gaze turned back to a surprised Torin. “Don’t you go all fucking formal with me, celestial! I refuse to be patronized!”

“I wasn’t being patronizing, Orphée. I was apologizing. Apologies are not patronizing.”

Orphée knew very well that they could be, but what struck him was his name. It was the first time Torin had ever said it to his face. He was pretty sure Torin had used it before when talking about the demon to someone else, but he’d never once said his name in front of him, to him, before. Come to think of it, even when talking to someone else about him, Orphée had never used Torin’s name. Somehow, some way, it seemed like a grievous oversight and at the same time, a habit he’d never be able to break.

Torin watched him curiously when he didn’t say anything and frustrated, his hand reached out to grab the archangel’s elbow, dragging him to a corner and further away from the two boys. “ _Tell me_ what’s wrong. I need to know because if I have to work with you, I… _need_ to be able to trust you to not go off and space out or get god damn weird thoughts in your head when it really counts.” It was his first time ever _trusting_ an angel before. Unlike Lucifer and some of his other followers he’d brought with him, Orphée had never been an angel before. He was straight-up demon, born and bred and raised that way.

For a second, there was a complicated but surprised look on Torin’s face and then a hand reached out to touch Orphée’s shoulder, squeezing it tightly. Blinking, Orphée glanced at the hand on him, not sure if he should be offended or not. It was the first time Torin had ever touched him. It made him shiver just a little, but it was not a shiver of revulsion. Maybe the shiver came from the wind, as it was rather wild up on the roof. That had to be it, because if he had shivered and it hadn’t been out of revulsion, then he sincerely was in trouble.

“Orphée.” His gaze snapped up, eyes with faint suspicion in their gaze, but it didn’t seem to bother the archangel. “I promise you, not on God or myself as a celestial, but on my person that you _can_ trust me to protect your back. Always.”

The low speech left him reeling and completely at a loss for once in his life, Orphée shrugged jerkily and looked away. This time he was the one that wouldn’t meet Torin’s eyes. “Yeah, well, I didn’t _ask_ for always. Not like we’re lovers like them or anything. I just don’t want to end up dead in this huge mess.”

Fingers turned his head, much to his surprise; the golden sun-like eyes were almost on fire, burning with Torin’s emotions. With the sun at his back on top of that, it drew him in to the power even as he tried to break free from it. “Trust in my conviction, Orphée. I will guard your back with everything necessary.”

Without warning, he broke from every hold and touch Torin had on him in a faint violent movement and stepped back. He was shaking for some reason and both envious and pleased at the same time. It had been a very, very long time since he had ever felt as strong as Torin obviously did and he was terribly jealous of the archangel for that. He hadn’t felt alive in ages, not like what he’d seen. And for all that he was green with envy for it, he also felt pleased. Why, he didn’t know. Maybe because Torin was the only celestial ever to care about a demon, about _him_. It was an ego boost, to say the least, or so he thought that was what it was. But the faint smug of superiority he would have expected to feel given this revelation wasn’t there.

“Orphée? Are you all right?”

Torin looked at him with concern, wisely making no move to touch him again, and Orphée felt a faint flush of heat come to his cheeks in embarrassment. Hell, he’d acted so _stupidly_ like that, breaking away so suddenly and making it obvious how uncomfortable he had been. “Fine, you stupid angel,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes.

“Orphée?” The voice hesitated, and the demon still refused to look at his counterpart. “Can I trust you?”

“Well, you’re gonna have to, won’t you? You ain’t got any brains behind those muscles, obviously, so someone has got to take care of you.” He gave a lopsided, crooked grin at Torin, peering at him from the corner of his eye.

It was the first time he’d ever seen Torin smile and really, it was so bright that he berated himself for not bringing his sunglasses.  



	11. Time of Revelations

“So you didn’t see anyone suspicious either?”

Orphée frowned and shook his head, still not quite looking at him but not trying to back away three feet either. Torin was at least glad of that. He knew very well that his show of emotion, something so _natural_ and so pure to him, unsettled his demonic…friend. His brain knew very well that he shouldn’t have been so forward, shown so much, but Orphée’s concern, and doubt, had pleased and disturbed him, respectively. Over the past few months, he had grown fond of Orphée, very fond. Perhaps more attached than he liked to admit to himself. He glanced at the two boys nearby out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t like to think that it might be something as deep as love, as he wasn’t sure of an angel and demon were capable of that for each other, but he couldn’t discount the possibility…when he entertained the thought at all. Mostly, he preferred not to think about it.

“This only leaves the fact that whoever it is, is in the kid’s class with him. We’ve been all over this school and haven’t seen a trace of the guy. And I _know_ that I wouldn’t have missed someone like that.”

Torin almost smiled at the belief Orphée had in his own strengths, but firmly stopped the impulse before it could be realized. Orphée was unsettled enough as it was, he didn’t need to get the inkling that Torin found himself softly amused and pleased of everything the demon did. “It’s also possible that this person we’re looking for didn’t come to school today.”

“Yeah, but I doubt it.” Orphée frowned and stared off into the sky, but his eyes were so unfocused that Torin knew he wasn’t really seeing it. “I just have this gut feeling that he’s here. Today. And that he’ll be here tomorrow and the next day…”

“Why are you so convinced that it’s a man?”

Orphée blinked and looked back at him. “I’m not saying it is, but hell, it’s just easier to use ‘he’ rather than ‘them’.” Those expressive red eyes rolled in exasperation and he shoved his hands in his pockets, leaning against the railing as if he was content to stand there for the rest of eternity, so long as no one interrupted his thoughts.

_Oh My Lord and Savior, please tell me that I did not just think that Orphée was cute when he did that…Perhaps I need sleep or that I’m exceptionally stressed lately. Maybe it’s because it’s been so long that I’ve had a…friend, a companion, even if he is a bit on the rude side. I pray that it’s merely that because if it isn’t…I could be in some serious trouble._

“If this is the case, then we should watch Kimihiro in his class. I think it would be a safe assumption, rather than Shizuka’s class.” A ringing bell interrupted them and the two boys in question had begun to wrap up their lunches. There seemed to be a faint hint of red on Watanuki’s cheeks and Torin smiled faint affection, feeling a kinship to the student much like in an older-brother fashion.

“Don’t fall for the kid, I’m seriously warning you.” Orphée’s teasing voice filled his ears and he glanced at the demon, and he swore that if he looked closely, there was more than just dark humor in that gaze. “His boyfriend won’t like it at all and I’d bet money on the fact that he’d win in a fight, even you being an archangel notwithstanding.”

“I have no interest in him in a romantic fashion,” he said truthfully, for what felt like the millionth time. Orphée only shrugged with a sly smile and ambled down the stairs, leaving Torin to hurry to catch up.

The next two hours went by in silence and boredom as they watched Watanuki’s class from outside, peering into the room through the open door occasionally. They would follow the boy when he would switch classes, the students parting around him and Orphée as they walked like a sea goes around a rock, but there was nothing to see. Orphée shifted from foot to foot more often than not, impatient and often pacing somewhat as he waited.

Maybe nothing would have come from their stakeout, had Torin not glanced back into the classroom and took a long look at the teacher. He frowned, as something didn’t look quite right at the edges of this person. For a celestial, he saw the same things as Orphée, but in a different way. Rather than chains, he saw thin lines of gold for the bindings of soul to body; earthy green for body to the ground; blue for lines connecting mind to soul. Most were bright and firm, signaling their ties to themselves and the world around them.

This woman’s, on the other hand, were tenuous and frail for the gold and green strands, but almost exceptionally thick and bright for mind to soul. He frowned, thinking. The first time he’d seen her as she entered the classroom, he hadn’t paid much attention to her at first. It wasn’t unusual that some bindings weren’t as strong as others. Physically weak and sickly people often had light and not very strong green bindings, and to make up for it, gold and blue were bright and stronger. Much like how if one lost one sense, the others got stronger to compensate that.

But he’d never seen two bindings so weak and fragile and third being so terribly strong and vibrant before. If one became weak, the necessity of the burden would fall to the other two, splitting the weight evenly as a matter of course. To have two bindings so lacking…to his understanding, it would be impossible for someone to live like that. It was true that the green bindings for Watanuki weren’t as strong as they used to be, given his injuries over the last few years, but blue and gold made up for that exceptionally strongly, having such strength that a faint weakening in green meant almost no effort to cover for it, especially with his previous divinity.

“Orphée,” he whispered, drawing the demon’s attention as he passed by him in his pacing. “Look at the teacher.”

Orphée stared at her and frowned. “What about her?”

“Look _closely_.” Despite knowing how uncomfortable his touch made the demon, Torin stepped up behind him and touched his shoulders, shifting him just a little so he could look more fully at the teacher. “Pay attention to the bindings.”

Orphée had been in the middle of trying to shrug off his touch, when he paused and stared _hard_ at her. It was a wonder she didn’t turn around at that burning gaze, but she acted as if nothing was amiss. “Hell…” was the whispered word after a moment. “I was so sure…I didn’t think anyone could hide their bindings.”

“You can’t,” he replied softly. “It’s something that no one can control, not even God Himself. You can, for example, help increase the green bindings tying body to earth if you take care of it and keep it healthy, but it would only give the smallest of benefits in the long run. There is no magic that can dim or hide the brightness of the bonds.”

Apparently the demon was still floored by seeing such an unusual occurrence that he still hadn’t resumed his struggling to get Torin’s hands off of him. Part of him relished it, feeling the sinewy muscles and bones under his touch shift every time Orphée breathed or twitched. And even through his clothing, his skin felt so warm, almost too warm, verging on hot.

Frowning lines appeared in Orphée’s forehead and he crossed his arms in thought. “Maybe when the whole crown business with the kid was going on, during that moment of acceptance of that archangel-soul crap, a spirit of another person slipped through the barriers and came here. Took over the nearest person, banishing the original soul and weakening the body as it was taken over. It would explain why the chains are so weak and frayed, looking like they’ll snap any minute. It would also explain why she’s taking such time siphoning off the energy from the kid. Any huge influx of magic would snap them and then the spirit would be shit out of luck. But why though? Why go through all the trouble, when it’s most likely that _no one_ would have ever known?”

Torin remained silent for a minute and when he did speak, softly, he didn’t realize his head had tilted in such a way that his lips were right next to Orphée’s ear. “Perhaps because it had learned of Yuuko and feared that if Yuuko did train Kimihiro, he _would_ notice and send it back. Maybe it didn’t want to go back and figured the safest route would be to kill him now, while he is defenseless, rather than wait and not being able to fight back at all when he’s powerful and knows what to do.”

For a second longer, in the silence that followed, they stood close together, feeling the heat of each other’s bodies. Then whatever had gripped them shattered and Orphée forcefully broke from his light grip that had never meant to restrain. “What is it with you and touching me today! I swear…” Orphée’s muttered voice and eyes not meeting his didn’t disguise even in the diluted, impure overhead lights in the hallway that there was a faint flush of red on the demon’s cheeks.

Much to his fear and chagrin, he couldn’t deny that he thought Orphée looked…cute like that.

-0-

“So you’re saying it’s my teacher?” Watanuki asked with annoyance as he set down the tray of drinks in front of his employer. Doumeki smirked and caught his eye when he noticed that the apron and bandanna around his head were slightly askew and he glared, trying to ignore that it felt worrisome that Doumeki was able to enter the shop so freely at the moment. And really, they wouldn’t _be_ askew if Doumeki hadn’t caught him the kitchen a few minutes earlier and kissed the daylights out of him.

“Only person it could be,” Orphée replied, seeming far more relaxed than Watanuki thought he had a right to be, all things considered. Especially taking such a huge gulp of beer from the bottle that the boy had brought. Torin, unlike the other two, refused and stuck with his habitual tea.

“It doesn’t…seem like such a big deal,” he hesitated, sitting down. He met Yuuko’s curious eyes, as if she didn’t quite believe he had just said that. Not really wanting, but he was forced to elaborate when in the silence, Torin and Orphée had also added their disbelieving gazes. “I just don’t understand why, if it’s my teacher and all that you said is such a problem. It doesn’t seem like the spirit is overly powerful.”

“By itself it isn’t,” Yuuko finally said, deigning for once in her life to _explain_ something to her poor, confused employee, he thought with a mild surge of habitual irritation. “However, you saw that creature that attacked you before. That was obviously summoned from another spiritual afterlife and something that Doumeki-kun couldn’t have taken care. Without Orphée or Torin around, you would have died. Just because it’s taking its time about this, doesn’t mean that when it does summon something, it won’t be even worse than that and could kill you next time. Or drag innocents into this as well. And if you die in such a violent manner, combined with the already open channel created with the summoned creature, every barrier between each afterlife will break, shatter, and begin to meld together. Fabrics of the universe will warp and while an afterlife isn’t directly, fully, in the normal, human reality, it will begin to affect those barriers as well.”

“So you’re saying what when Kimihiro dies, this is going to happen?”

She looked at Doumeki, considering him for a long moment after his question. “No. If he dies, for example, sleeping in his bed, just passing away from old age or whatnot, nothing is going to happen. I’m saying the combination of a very violent death from a creature that came through a _still open_ barrier will be the hole that collapses the wall.”

“I was told,” Orphée interrupted, obviously wanting to put in his two cents and ignoring the way Yuuko glared at him for disrupting her whole pacing and explanation, “that neither Heaven, nor Hell, could stop this on their own and now I’m beginning to see why. This spirit is not _from_ this world, nor from Heaven or Hell. Neither Lucifer, nor God or Jesus, have any power over this thing whatsoever. None of them can snap their fingers and send them to the place they need to be. The only way that there would be enough power to send it back to where it came from, is if both sides of the coin, Heaven and Hell, light and dark, worked together to open a tiny hole in the fabric and force it through. Since that’s not happening, it’s up to you kids, Yuuko, Torin, and poor unfortunate me, to take care of this thing. Destroy it, rather than try to send it back. We could send it back, of course, if your power was sufficiently trained, but it’s not. Even having you _try_ it could permanently harm something as bad as if you bloody well died.”

“We cannot just kill the body, unfortunately,” Torin clarified, to Watanuki’s horrified expression as he thought of the only conclusion his mind came up with to Orphée’s statement: murder. “The spirit will just find another body, force out that soul, and start again. We have to…kill this spirit, though unfortunately, it is likely that your teacher’s body will die after that with no soul in it and with the bindings already as weak as they are.”

He gave Watanuki a sympathetic look, but the boy didn’t see it. He was too busy staring at the table and clenching his fists. Again, this was his fault. If he hadn’t been born like this, hadn’t had this problem, none of these people would have died. Himawari, his teacher…No one would have to suffer like this. If he hadn’t been an archangel, the incident with the crown never would have happened and this spirit would never have come through.

A hand covered his own fisted one and he looked up into the amber eyes of his boyfriend. They were stern, as if he knew what anguish Watanuki’s mind was going through and wasn’t going to accept to allow him to take the world on his shoulders. More than Orphée’s words about placing some of the guilt with the dead, he remembered Doumeki’s when they had been in his apartment when he’d been forced to share his grief rather than cut his boyfriend out of his life altogether.

_“You can’t continue like this, Watanuki. You keep thinking that if you weren’t born, or born like this, that nothing would have happened to her, or anyone else, but you don’t know that for certain. Who’s to say that the outcome would have been different? That these people would have gotten hurt or died anyway, just by a different means? You can’t blame yourself for **everything** that has ever gone wrong because you weren’t the only deciding factor in it. If not you, someone else could have your burden, your powers. I believe…that some things are just meant to happen in a certain way and if you weren’t the one to have these abilities, for example, someone else would have. So don’t blame yourself.”_

He’d made a feeble joke at the time that it was the longest speech Doumeki had ever made and his boyfriend had sounded vaguely hesitant about it, as if always searching for the right way to say it. That didn’t, however, prevent Watanuki from knowing that they were true. Even if his feelings couldn’t agree with his logical mind that didn’t want to accept it but had no choice.

“What do we do then?” he finally asked, after the silence had become too much to bear.

Orphée shrugged, eloquently stating the answer for all of the adults: “Still working on that one.”  



	12. Changes

Orphée ignored the banging on his front door, point blank, and still sat at his computer, typing as furiously as his fingers could go. End of the world and demons apparently determined to get attention notwithstanding, he had a deadline he had to meet. He’d been hunched over this computer for two days and still he was nowhere near finished. His stomach was growling, but in a human way rather than a demonic way. Even something as simple as a sandwich would stop that and he didn’t need another soul just yet to feed his demonic urges.

However, finding the time to even twitch from his chair was proving difficult.

The crashing against his front door was getting on his nerves and only when it stopped did he lift up his head curiously. He’d been _hounded_ by other demons lately, all either taunting, threatening, or begging him to come back to Hell. He just dreaded the day when Lucifer decided to come instead. They had been friends, close friends and confidants, before and he didn’t think that Lucifer took it very well when he suddenly up and disappeared without a word.

Suspiciously, he stood up, back popping from the strain of his position, and listened hard. The banging didn’t resume, but he didn’t for a moment believe that it was over. Cautiously, he went to his front door and opened it a crack, peering out with one eye. A well-formed chest was what he saw first, and he straightened, looking into a bewildered, golden gaze.

“You see any other demons around here?”

Torin blinked and glanced around, but shook his head. “No. No one was here when I came up the walk a minute ago. Should I have seen some?”

Now he was thoroughly convinced something was going on. “Then were you the one banging on my door with what sounded like a battering ram for the past two hours?”

“Of course not. I just arrived a minute ago and was about to knock when you opened the door.”

Orphée widened the crack to eyeball the outside of his house mistrustfully. He didn’t see anyone else out there, but he just had this gut feeling that they were watching from the shadows. Fearing that Torin would be attacked and he’d have to clean off blood from his front door, taking time away from his writing, he reached out and clenched a handful of fabric from the archangel’s shirt, and literally dragged him inside. The door slammed shut and he bolted all the locks in place.

“Orphée, what’s going on?”

He glowered at Torin, in a very foul mood as he hadn’t slept or eaten for the past two days, not something that would kill him but enough to make him very annoyed, he stalked back to his computer. “I’ve got a deadline and pestering little insects bugging me for what feels like eternity. What do you want?”

Torin’s warmth radiated at his back for a moment and then instantly retreated when he read a few lines of what Orphée was very unhappily writing. A quick glance over his shoulder showed almost golden-colored skin blushing. _Heh. I must say, a perk of this whole arrangement is embarrassing Torin. Nothing funnier than seeing him blush to his ears when he looks at what I write._

His stomach growled again as his fingers went back to clicking on the keys so fast that a full-time secretary would glare in envy. “Have you eaten lately?”

“You don’t need to worry about any precious souls, celestial. All I need is a little human sustenance. Just don’t have the time.”

Torin didn’t say anything else and curiously, he looked over his shoulder only to find the archangel was no longer there. It would be impossible for him not to feel the man’s presence in his house and he guessed he’d gone into the kitchen. Such a do-gooder, but at this point, he couldn’t mind _too_ much about it. At least he wasn’t stupid enough to ask Orphée if he wanted something, as the answer would have been no, simply on principle.

The only sound in the small house was the keyboard and probably would have stayed that way if the phone hadn’t rung. Automatically his hand reached for it at his side, only to find the phone wasn’t there. His blood ran cold and he jumped from his seat, propelled with such force that the wheeled chair slammed into the wall, and hurried to the kitchen. The phone wasn’t in the charger and the only place it could be would be there and he knew who it was and if Torin answered—

Too late.

Orphée didn’t bother being nice, just yanked with such force on the phone away from Torin’s ear that the archangel almost stumbled. Rather than irritation or anger, there was only curiosity as Orphée, skin pale, put the phone to his ear. His voice was slightly panicky as he tried to explain to his editor that no, the man in his apartment wasn’t a sexual partner and no, he wouldn’t get in the way of work. And _NO_ , she didn’t have to come over to make sure he was working.

“I’m telling you, I haven’t slept for two days straight! I’ve been _working_! I haven’t even eaten! You wanted the manuscript and you’re going to _get_ the manuscript on time—No, no, no! You’re _not_ coming over! No, it’s not because I have someone here that I don’t want you to see, it’s because _I can’t write_ when you’re breathing down my fucking neck!”

Without a final word, there was a dial tone in his ear and in a fit rage, he slammed it against the wall, not caring that it shattered into pieces. Not like it mattered all that much, but that was the fifth phone he’d gone through in three months and that made him even more irritated. And what better source to take out his anger than on the person who had, while not caused it, definitely contributed to it?

Torin seemed to get the point just seconds before Orphée shoved him against the countertop, hands fisted in his shirt. “ _Idiot!_ Why did you answer the phone?!” he shrieked. To his credit, Torin didn’t flinch at the volume of his voice inches away. “Now my editor is coming and she’s worse than Lucifer ever thought of being when he’s at his angriest! _STUPID_!!” He went on, in length, with curse words that by the red of Torin’s ears, he’d never heard before until the unused doorbell rang…in record time.

“Oh shit, that’s her. Only she ever rings that damn doorbell.” _Hell, she’s broken as many of those as I have phones! If I don’t want to have to shell out more money to get it fixed, I’m going to have to answer the door or she’ll keep pounding on it and that sound is even more grating than someone banging on the wood!_

Torin straightened his shirt when Orphée let go, had the decency to look chastened at his action, and the demon stomped to let his editor in. The woman herself was a thin one, that made one think of those ancient, terse librarians, only her face wasn’t vulture-like yet and she wasn’t all that old. Brown eyes were sharp as she made a beeline to his computer, flipping through and scanning the pages he’d managed to get finished. Frowning heavily at him, as if to say ‘ _That’s ALL?_ ’, her piercing gaze fixed over Orphée’s shoulder at Torin, who’d curiously come out of the kitchen.

“Come on, Aiko! I was working, you can see that! And…Torin here only got here a few seconds before you called!” He had almost said ‘celestial’, but even being his editor, she didn’t know what he was and he’d prefer to keep it that way. The less people knew, the better. Though minds had changed over the last few thousand years, he could still remember the superstitious thoughts humans had and how’d they spend their whole lives hunting down demons. He didn’t want to be the one to start a witchhunt again.

“Orphée-san. _Sit._ You’re supposed to be writing and I will not tolerate if you’re late. You promised me this two weeks ago, said I’d have it long before the deadline so I’d have _time_ and peace to go through it all!”

 _As if I had time to write when I’ve been trying to save the whole damn world! I never **asked** to be part of a hero group, but I ain’t got any choice!_ he grumbled to himself and dragged his chair back to sit at his computer. Her eyes shifted to almost glare at Torin, but the archangel, oddly enough, held firm and didn’t even squirm under her gaze. Odd and amusing, even. Had his editor finally met her match?

Orphée wasn’t even really paying attention to what he was typing, as that took no amount of concentration to do, as he’d written variations of this sort of scene so many times. Instead, he listened to their conversation intently, trying not to have a grin show on his features. For the first time in his life, he hoped that the archangel would win this argument. It wasn’t like he _hated_ his editor, but she was such a slave-driver and gave him such a hard time that he couldn’t help cheering when someone else got the upper hand.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Torin’s face remained as impassive as always without being belligerent. “I don’t think that would be wise. He hasn’t eaten or slept in two days. Someone needs to help him here.”

“You’re disrupting his work. He won’t be able to concentrate.”

“Forgive me for saying so, but I believe that you’re the one that is disrupting his work. Perhaps if you trusted him to do what he has promised, he would not be so stressed right now.”

She looked a bit stumped for a minute, as how could you get angry with someone being so polite? Orphée found it easy, but then he was a demon and was often accused of having little to no manners or social etiquette to start with. Page after page was filled up with his typing, flowing as easily as if he were retyping an old novel, and his eyes didn’t even see the screen in front of him. Oh, the drama going on behind him was just too much to pass up even a moment of his attention.

“Then we should both leave him alone to do his work.”

“I believe that it has already been established that he needs someone here to help him with other things while he’s writing. If he doesn’t even have time to eat, he will pass out from hunger.”

“So you’re saying you want me to leave,” she stated flatly and he could hear the rustle of fabric that probably meant she had her hands on her hips, as that was one of her trademark poses meant to intimidate.

It apparently had no effect on Torin whatsoever, as his voice didn’t change at all from its polite but faintly disapproving tone. “I think that would be wise. I’m sure it will be very hard for Orphée to write if there is someone hanging over his shoulder and reminding him of the time.”

Their conversation degenerated into silence after that and he risked his editor’s wrath by looking over his shoulder to see what had happened. They were in a stony staring contest, neither one seeming to want to give way. Torin’s arms were crossed over his chest and he looked implacable and patient, as if prepared to wait all day for her to see his point. Aiko, on the other hand, was looking increasingly frustrated, as her Pose Of Doom was not having any effect whatsoever.

And for the first time in their acquaintance, his editor lost. She grabbed her large purse, glared at Orphée for daring to turn away from the monitor and stalked to the door with as much dignity as she could muster. “I better have that manuscript by Monday.”

The threat didn’t mean much to Orphée and he laughed. “Hell, what was all that about! Didn’t know you had it in you, celestial. Though why you did it—”

“Torin.”

“Huh?”

“You called me Torin before.”

Orphée looked from the door to the archangel, the man’s demeanor of polite but stony disagreement gone and looking…vaguely vulnerable and soft to him. He spun in his chair again, back at the screen and ignored the odd confusion that seeing Torin like that did to him. “So what?”

“I would prefer it if you would call me that from now on.”

“Oh, you would, would you?” he sniped back, fingers back to work.

They stilled, however, when he felt hands on his shoulders again. What was it with this archangel and touching him?! It was harder to ignore the sudden one or two ‘butterflies’ that appeared at that hold, for whatever reason, and frowned up at the man. “Please call me Torin.”

“Does it _really_ mean that much to you? Honestly!”

“Yes, it does.”

Normally he would have avoided calling the man anything _else_ just to spite him, but for whatever reason, he shrugged jerkily. “Fine, whatever. It’s not like it’s that big of a deal and if you’ll leave me alone about it, I’ll call you by your damn name.”

“Thank you.”

It had to have been his imagination that when those soft words had been spoken, there was a faint brush of Torin’s finger against his neck before the archangel was gone from the room, probably into the kitchen. That was fine, so long as he wasn’t there to see Orphée shiver in response to that gentle touch.  



	13. Wonderfully Sinful

Torin was sure that Orphée wouldn’t like it if he knew that he was watching him sleep. In fact, he knew that Orphée would like it even less to learn that he’d fallen asleep at his keyboard and the angel had carried him to bed. Logically, he knew that it was time to leave. He’d been here for hours while Orphée typed with a maniacal attention, helping where he could and watching when he couldn’t. And despite his grumbles and shouts at him occasionally, Orphée had never asked, or rather ordered, him to leave.

His hand brushed Orphée’s hair and the man mumbled something in his sleep. No doubt it was something to do with his novel, some plot point that he hadn’t quite figured out how to explain. Of anyone, disregarding what he’d say to the contrary, Orphée was working the hardest of all of them, or so it seemed to Torin. And in his own way, he was sure the demon cared about what happened to Watanuki.

Fearful at what he might do if he left it there, Torin withdrew his hand and slumped in the chair next to the bed. _This is ridiculous. I know that angels are emotional beings, given more to compassion than anger. I know this firsthand, as I am one. But this is insane. **I** must be insane. To form such a strong, strong emotional attachment to a demon just isn’t…I would have sworn it wouldn’t be possible three months ago. This can’t be…I’m insane!_

And yet it was the sweetest form of insanity that he’d ever experienced. It wasn’t that he wasn’t understanding his own feelings, but that he couldn’t _believe_ them. It was true that after an incident with Jesus, God had lifted the ban on angels loving others, even mortals, but wasn’t he going far over the line? If it really was as he was trying not to believe, if he really _was_ in love with Orphée… He honestly didn’t know what would happen. Nothing of this magnitude had _ever_ happened before. Unlike human romance novels that seemed so popular starring celestials and demons, nothing like that had ever happened in reality, even once.

If he wasn’t so sure that it would wake Orphée, Torin would have started to pace. As it was, he dared not even lift his golden eyes to look at the slumbering demon, lest they soften and fill with warmth and caring again. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to care, but that he was afraid to. Let himself go for just a moment, and something completely irreparable might happen.

 _How does that human prayer go again? ‘Bless me God, for I have sinned’? It is remarkably accurate, for my feelings couldn't be anything other than sinful._ Unable to stop, needing to see that harsh but pleasing visage, he glanced at Orphée, who shifted on his side until he faced the angel. A soft smile touched Torin’s face as he watched him frown in his sleep at whatever he was dreaming.

_Wonderfully sinful._

-0-

“You seem both happy and distressed lately, Torin-san. Did something happen?”

Watanuki kept his eye on the archangel next to him so he didn’t miss the faintly startled look sent his way. After a moment, the gaze slid away from his own and stared ahead. He obviously didn’t want to talk about it, but was too polite to outright tell him that. “Just some…startling internal revelations, Kimihiro. Nothing’s wrong.”

Watanuki couldn’t quite believe him, but seeing the almost torn expression in the rich, golden eyes kept him from pressing more. Somehow, he doubted it was stress from their current supernatural predicament. Which reminded him…

“Um, Torin-san?” He waited until his companion looked at him curiously before continuing. “I know that the best way to keep that spirit in line is to always be around me, but I was…” He faltered a little, as it was becoming ever harder to say this. Orphée, Torin, and Yuuko knew full well that he loved Doumeki, but admitting it when he’d spent years instinctively screeching at the top of his lungs that he hated said boyfriend was difficult. “Tomorrow is Shizuka’s competition and—”

“You would like to spend the rest of the day after that with him alone?” Torin supplied, saving him most of the embarrassment. Watanuki nodded, relieved. His heart sank a little, though, when he saw the frown on the archangel’s face. “Nothing would please me more to see you spend some time, free from worry, with the person you love, but I’m not sure if it would be wise in this case. And I’m sure that Orphée and Yuuko wouldn’t agree.”

“That’s why I’m asking you, Torin-san. _Please_ , can you keep Orphée-san and Yuuko-san distracted tomorrow?”

Whatever thought suddenly occurred to Torin that caused his ‘not going to agree’ expression to fade away into resignation, Watanuki cheered at. “Very well. I will do the best that I can. Though I think Orphée will be easier than Yuuko, in that respect.”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with him,” he commented, curiosity getting the better of him. “I didn’t think you would because you’re an angel and he’s a demon. And you both didn’t get along well at all when you first met.”

He couldn't decipher the emotions in Torin’s smile, as he didn’t know where to begin. There were so many, so complicated, that he didn’t even try. Whatever it was, though, Watanuki knew that during the time they’d spent so much time around each other, something had changed in his friend. Something had changed between them. It wasn’t as clear-cut as it had been before, something that anyone would expect. He felt vaguely saddened that Torin didn’t trust him enough to tell him about it.

“He’s an interesting person. I enjoy talking to him.”

That was the end of the discussion, by the way the man’s jaw was clenching so tightly.

-0-

The day was exceptionally bright and beautiful, as if it too took pity on Watanuki and decided to shine for his stress-free day with his boyfriend. Not that he’d ever admit just how much he’d wanted just one day alone, without having to think about the problems hounding them. But still…a nice breeze with an old oak tree and quiet around them and he was happy. Odd how something simple, something taken for granted, could end up meaning so much.

Watanuki risked a glance at Doumeki, but he was staring at the picnic basket next to him, as if they were having a showdown for how long one of them would last before breaking down. He bit his tongue to keep from laughing at his silly thought and instead said, “Are you going to thank me for all the hard work in making your favorite foods?” He pretended to grumble. “I suppose it’s only _reasonable_ because you won your competition.”

“Kimihiro.”

“What?”

“Come here.”

He glared at his boyfriend, frowning at the order and was tempted to stay put, but he knew that if he did, he’d just get dragged over by force. When he came within grabbing distance, Doumeki’s hand shot out, startling him, and pulled him off balance. There was a faint bit of scuffling and Watanuki found, when he got settled, that he was now sitting in said archer’s lap.

Red flooded his cheeks and he indignantly spat out, “What’d you do that for, you jerk?! I could have broken my neck!”

Doumeki’s arms went around his waist and he looked oh-so-comfortable being straddled by the lighter boy that it made Watanuki turn even redder. For a moment, the silence of their quiet spot continued and it almost seemed as if Doumeki would be content to stare into his boyfriend’s eyes for the rest of the day. And while it was wonderful to be the object of such adoration, it made Watanuki extremely embarrassed. He wasn’t used to such behavior, wasn’t used to being treated almost as if he were someone’s reason for being. Especially not after all the mayhem he caused around him.

“Did you make any shrimp?”

He whapped Doumeki on the head with a huff and opened the basket next to them to show his picky boyfriend what he’d made. Really, if he didn’t make food for the archer, he’d probably starve to death. Doumeki peered at the fish and then looked back up to him. “Feed them to me.”

“ _Why on earth should I do that?!_ ” he screeched, feeling lively for the first time in a very long while. Feeling like himself. And that made him feel free, not confined by circumstances and extra protection and spirits. “You’ve got two hands! They’re not broken! You’re seriously getting full of yourself lately! Well don’t think for one second that just because we’re dating that means you get any special privileges—”

A kiss shut him up and he leaned into it eagerly. His reaction to their kisses and physical affection was the one thing that Doumeki never teased or commented on it. For Watanuki, it was a sacred act that was meant to be taken as seriously as his feelings for his boyfriend.

He enjoyed, reveled, in the passion. Doumeki was such a stoic and calm person, but when they kissed or made love, he changed. Their actions became nigh uncontrollable, filled with longing and desire and love so strong that there was no waiting, no sense of soft, gentle movements. No, it was freedom, absolute in the emotions that had no bearing on rhyme or reason.

By the time it ended, he was breathless and completely disheveled. He hadn’t realized that Doumeki’s hands had wandered and had at some point, unbuttoned his shirt to let it flap open. He would have been mad, but the faint nipping at his neck and nuzzling of those soft lips kept him in that pleasant after-kiss haze. “Feed them to me. Please.”

“Since you said please,” he muttered, but without irritation or heat and reached into the basket for said shrimp.

It should be illegal, how those lips curled around his fingers as they took each shrimp fro him. He would have used chopsticks, like any _normal_ person, but when Doumeki insisted while simultaneously letting his mouth travel south to his halfway pert nipples, he couldn’t say no.

“I hate you,” he murmured when the last of the shrimp were eaten and Doumeki dragged him further into his lap and letting his arms go comfortably around his waist again.

“Hn.”

“You’re picky, annoying, still a jerk, I really hate it that you’re so handsome, jealous of people that you have no reason to be jealous of and don’t deny that you were jealous of Torin-san, arrogant, completely self-centered—”

“But you don’t mind,” Doumeki interrupted, looking quite occupied with running his tongue languidly on Watanuki’s collarbone, as if prepared to continue this activity through the entirety of their conversation.

“If you put it like _that_ , I suppose I don’t,” he grumbled ungraciously, but the smile on his face said that he was too pleased and happy to be really annoyed. This was the first day in months, more months than he cared to count, that he felt like this. For once, for this day, he was free of guilt and anger and fear.

And he would treasure this.  



	14. Time Is Like A Knife

A thunderstorm was the last thing he needed at this particular moment, but the weather was not obliging him. The rain came down in sheets, turning the overcast day as dark as night. It was hard to see three inches in front of him and when demons and archangels alike surrounded him that was a very bad thing. He tossed his short hair out of his face and stepped back cautiously until he came into contact with something firm and tense.

“You take care of the archangels. One attempt at a demon, and you’ll start a war between Heaven and Hell.”

Orphée didn’t need to turn around to know that Torin had nodded. Whether he was lucky or not that the celestial was with him, he couldn’t decide. The demons were eyeballing his companion with a fierceness that made it clear just who their target was. Studying them proved they were all exceptionally young and weren’t thinking of consequences. Most likely, even if they attacked Torin, neither God or Lucifer would allow a war to happen.

However, if either Torin or Orphée made one move to attack their opposing factions, it would be all-out war. _Gee, what a lovely perk to being a war veteran._ Orphée almost rolled his eyes, but figured he really didn’t have the luxury to do so when he was straining them as it was just to see one foot in front of his nose.

“Why does this always happen to me when I’m around you?” he hissed, but didn’t receive an answer. That was okay, because he didn’t expect one. Well, his little demon ‘colleagues’ were going to get a nasty surprise. A little concentration and his human form faded away. Black and red leather wings snapped out at his back and a long, sinewy tail curled around his leg instinctively. When he tilted his head, he could hear each and every one of his numerous hoop earrings jingle and their familiar weight reassured him. It had been a very long time since he’d been in his true form.

Gathering his weight in his legs and bending his knees slightly, he launched himself into a sprint, diving right in the middle of the mess of demons. Not all of them could get out of the way of his rapid-fire of kicks and punches fast enough. Taking their stunned state to his advantage, obviously shocked that he was going against them rather than the angels, he pulled out his dual-bladed knives. He wasn’t aiming to kill, but some show of extra danger might make them think twice.

No such luck. Their retaliation wasn’t normally something to worry about, but it was five to one. So long as he could keep them occupied with him, they wouldn’t go about aiming for Torin. He needed that celestial to keep the other archangels off of him. Even if it was out of self-defense, he didn’t trust those angels not to cry war on him if he had to respond to attacks.

A sword sliced against his armored, black ankle-length coat and turned around fast enough to kick the blade out of said demon’s hand. Really, it paid to have those martial arts lessons. He was hardly an expert, as he’d never really devoted himself to it, but it was enough to get him out of trouble. He couldn’t have pulled out his daggers every time he got into a fight in this world, obviously. It had just never occurred to him that it would be useful against other demons.

Battle sped up and it was all he could do to keep track of the three in front of him. If he hadn’t been keeping in mind to watch Torin’s back, he wouldn’t have noticed the other two sneaking around behind to attack the celestial. He broke free of his attackers and sped as fast as he could through the rain. The water made the road slick going, but his thick, steel-toed boots were made for traction in any weather condition.

“Watch your back!”

Torin turned around at his screech, but his sword was already occupied fending off two other blades. _Shit. I can take one of them out now, but that means stopping and letting the other go on. While Torin is in his angelic form, he doesn’t have armor. That sword is going to go through his back like bloody butter. I can throw one of my blades into his shoulder and then tackle the other, but that means I lose one of my weapons._

Despite the detractions to the plan, it was the only one he could come up with at such short notice. He had only seconds left to make a decision, if there was even any decision to be made. Torin trusted him to guard his back and he couldn’t let him down. He couldn't. Even for reasons he refused to contemplate, he couldn’t let the man get hurt simply because even if he was a demon, when he gave his word or agreed to something, he _didn’t_ under any circumstances back out on a deal.

Orphée tossed one of his daggers not like a spear, but the opposite of a Frisbee. It sliced through the rain and wind in a vertical way and embedded itself in the weapon arm of his opponent. It threw off the aim of the strike and Torin was able dodge successfully. With one shove of his legs, he tackled the other running demon around the waist and landed hard in the mud, sliding a few inches to boot.

It all happened in a few seconds and he’d forgotten all about the fact that his three previous opponents weren’t going to let him off so easily. Hands grabbed his shoulders and arms, dragging him up and he fought violently. They obviously didn’t want him dead and he knew they probably wanted to drag him forcefully back down to Hell to face Lucifer.

Like that was going to happen if he had a say in it!

One demon got a broken nose for his trouble and the other a shattered kneecap. The demon that he’d hoped would be down for the count staggered up and tossed away his dagger, where it skittered somewhere in the darkness. _Fuck! I’m covered with water and mud and this isn’t good. I can’t take these guys **and** take care of Torin’s back at the same time!_

“You ready for a strategic retreat?” he called over the thunder.

“Normally no, but I think the situation calls for it,” was the calm reply.

How Torin could seem so serene, he’d never know, but he didn’t have a chance to contemplate it. One moment of inattention and he missed the violent movement of a club being aimed at him. Pain exploded in his head and he saw for a few precious seconds, blood drops mingling with the rain as they fell to the ground. _Oh shi…_

-0-

Torin saw Orphée look vaguely stunned as he crumpled to the ground and disregarding everything, he dived to protect his fallen comrade. It didn’t matter that he was attacking the demons, driving them away and ignoring the fact that it would cause a war. It didn’t matter that he was one archangel against eight foes. All he knew was that there was no way he could allow them to take Orphée away from him. Nor could he forgive their brutality. With the sheer force that he’d been hit with, Orphée probably had a concussion, if not worse.

Time ceased to have any meaning for him and yet at the same time, he was conscious of nothing else. Every moment that Orphée remained in the rain with that kind of freely bleeding head wound, was a moment that meant that he could lose him. He paid no notice to limbs that began to shake with exhaustion. It didn’t matter that some of his hair, which had gotten loose from its band, had been sliced off from a dodge of an attack for his throat.

However, he couldn’t ignore that piercing, commanding call ringing in him. God was telling all the archangels to return. Immediately. Looking up at one of the nearby rooftops, he saw why. Of course, seeing that, he’d want them to return. It boded no good at all. But even as the other archangels took to the sky at once and flew back to heaven, Torin remained on the ground, blade held in one hand, his wings unfurled to protect his friend.

“Lucifer.”

Fallen angel, ruler of Hell, former comrade. He was all that rolled into one, but even at this distance, he could feel the hate directed at him. It wasn’t because of the war. It wasn’t because he was an archangel. They say that one recognized like kinds and he knew the reason for the hate. Lucifer was in love and wanted to get his beloved back.

There was no way he was letting that happen, regardless of the fact that Orphée probably had no idea about those feelings.

Wings exploded into life behind him and Torin growled. They had once been as pure white as his own, but now they were dark as night, soaking in all the light around him. Even his once-blonde hair was black. What hadn’t changed, though, were his baby blue eyes. It was all that remained to Torin of what Lucifer had once been. Why? Why had he done it? The question still burned in his chest after the war had long ended, but he’d never felt anything but hurt. That wasn’t the case anymore.

The other demons had backed away a respectful distance, sensing this would be a fight that they had no place in. Lucifer’s movements were graceful as he glided down on the rain-laden wind to stand on the ground. Those unkind eyes were boring into him and recognition flickered into that gaze. Lucifer knew who he was. They hadn’t ever been especially close in Heaven before the war, but they had never been on bad terms either.

“Give Naga back. Now.”

Naga? It hurt, though logically he knew it shouldn’t. Was Naga Orphée’s demonic name? Or was it just a nickname? Either way, it didn’t change the fact that he didn’t know it. It was expected, as Orphée didn’t love him and only seemed to tolerate him, but it hurt nonetheless.

“No. If he wanted to go back to Hell, he would have a long time ago.”

“Shekinah, my _last_ warning. I’m giving you one more chance, because of our history. Step _aside_.”

“Never.”

“You always lived up to the meaning of your name, but he won’t ever return your feelings.” There was a faint snort and over the years, Lucifer had gotten quite good at condescension, he noted. “Though even _I_ never expected that love from an archangel to a demon was possible. Fallen angel, yes—”

“It doesn’t matter if he returns my feelings or not. I promised him that I’d protect him. He trusts me to do that and I’d rather die than let him down.”

There was a moment of silence and Lucifer’s eyes became colder than ice and yet also inflamed with rage. “Then I shall take him through you.”

“Be my guest to try.”

Torin didn’t know if he was up to fighting one-on-one with Lucifer when he was so tired, but he didn’t have a choice. He refused to allow any lethargy come to his limbs as their swords met in a rhythm that was old for both of them. That blade was as black and red now, fissures going through the metal and it had warped a long time ago. Torin could remember when Lucifer’s blade had shown brighter than anyone else’s in heaven, but now it was as black as the rest of him. It truly was a demonic sword now.

Moving faster than the eye could see, the sounds of combat overpowered even that of the horrendously loud thunder. Perhaps God had sent his call to bring all the archangels back, hoping that Lucifer would take Orphée back with him and it would be the end of it. There would be no upsetting, world-changing situation where an angel and demon worked together, protected and trusted each other.

_Forgive me, Lord, but I cannot go to you. Not ever again. Not while Orphée still draws breath. And if he ever does cease to do that…my crimes against you can surely never be forgiven. Orphée is…_

Torin bit his tongue so hard it bled when he was slammed into the wall, but he moved fast enough to become that barrier once again that blocked Lucifer from Orphée. His vision was hazy, but he wasn’t about to give up. He didn’t even bother wasting a movement to brush his wet hair from his face. Lucifer would take advantage of any inattention to take his precious burden from him.

His exhaustion was catching up to him and he almost lost his head if it hadn’t been for a hand gripping into his shirt and dragging him back at the last second. He knew it was Orphée without having to look, but he did anyway. An arm wrapped around the demon’s waist and under his nearly black skin, he had a distinctly grayish pallor from his head wound. There was very little sense in his burgundy eyes, but he was awake. That was all that mattered.

“Sorry, Luce. We have to go.”

The voice he spoke with might have been weak in terms of strength, but the will behind it wasn’t anything less than steel. Torin heard faint ripping sounds as Orphée’s claws became so tight in his shirt to hold himself up that it made holes. He wanted to check to see if the bleeding stopped, but he dared not take his attention off of Lucifer.

“Naga! Come back!”

Composed Lucifer had disappeared and he seemed just a little frantic. His hand reached out, obviously intending to drag him away from Torin, but the archangel had expected this reaction. He flapped his wings violently, causing dirt, mud, and silt to mingle with the rain and head straight to Lucifer. It obscured the demon’s vision enough that Torin was able to make it into the air and use the rain clouds as cover for their escape.

Figuring that Lucifer knew where Orphée lived, he carried his friend to his own apartment. He didn’t spare a moment of attention to assume his human disguise, merely shouldered the door open and wedged them both in despite their wings. Quickly locking the door to prevent any intruders, celestial or otherwise, he hurried to the bathroom. Orphée needed warmth and he needed it then, so he turned on the hot water tap of his bathtub on full blast.

“Orphée, stay awake. Don’t fall asleep. I think you have a concussion.”

“What did you…think you were doing, taking on…Lucifer like that?”

Apparently there wasn’t any danger of Orphée falling asleep, as his eyes were hazy but irritated and quite awake…well, sort of. His attention span seemed to drift in and out, but he didn’t close his eyes or sleep. He went to work on undoing the buttons of Orphée’s armored jacket. Surprisingly, it was quite heavy and it chinked loudly when he let it drop to the floor. Must be at least six daggers hidden in them then. And while the shirt underneath the jacket had no sleeves, it resembled very closely that of a black breastplate. He unbuckled it quickly, letting it land on top of the coat.

Orphée’s hands tried to stop his as he went for the chainmail-like greaves, but the archangel wasn’t to be detoured. “You don’t want to go back to Hell. Lucifer was going to take you. I thought it’d be better to fight him than let you be taken.”

“Didn’t it occur to you that I could just leave again?” was the tired but irate reply.

Giving up on the pants for the moment, as Orphée was being exceptionally obstinate, Torin shifted his attention to untying the laces on metal-plated boots. “You trust me to watch your back, Orphée, and that is exactly what I did.” He tossed the boots into the pile of black on the tile of his floor next to the toilet and headed straight for the greaves again. Apparently Orphée had used up all his energy fending him off before, because he had very little trouble getting around the uncoordinated efforts to stop him.

It was the first time he’d seen Orphée naked, or an up-close look at any demon, but he dared not look too long. Archangels were pure beings, only able to physically react to those they loved. It wasn’t common knowledge, but if Lucifer had told Orphée… The demon’s skin was icy-cold as he lifted him up to put him into the tub and he frowned in worry. Orphée winced at the heat and he turned off the tap so the water didn’t overflow.

“I don’t know what’s with you. You’re so damn extreme.”

Torin ignored the mutter, his fingers instead going to peruse Orphée’s skull, looking for where the injury landed. Cursing from the demon told him he’d found it on the left side of his head. There was a huge bump and a nasty cut, but not deep enough that it would need stitches. He’d probably be fine if he spent the night in his demon form and took advantage of his accelerated healing.

“You can _go_ now.”

He blinked and looked down. “What?”

There was an adorable, faint flush on Orphée’s cheeks and he was pointedly looking elsewhere. “You can _go_ , moron. I’m not going to die or anything in here if you’re not here right next to me.”

Torin kept his eyes fixedly everywhere above Orphée’s shoulders. “I don’t want to risk the chance that you fall asleep and drown in the water.” He brought a soft cloth to run along that dark grayish black skin that was so tantalizingly alluring in its beauty. Even the scars on his body weren’t ugly or too marring. He recognized one that he’d probably done himself during the war, an old and faded scar that ran along Orphée’s right ribs.

“Who’d do something stupid like that?!”

“It’s been known to happen.”

“Hmph. I think you’re still here because you have a touching fetish. You keep touching me lately.”

He worked in silence for awhile, watching as the demon closed his eyes tiredly to shield his gaze from the glaring bathroom light. “Orphée?”

“What?”

“Is your demon name Naga?”

“…Sort of. It’s a nickname made from my demon name. And unfortunately for me, even being a nickname, it still holds the same power as the full thing.” There was an expectant pause and one blood-red eye cracked open a little. “Why do I get the feeling you want me to tell you my name?”

“Well…”

“Why should I, exactly? You know as well as I do, just how powerful a True Name is. Why should I trust you with something so important?”

“You trusted me with your life,” Torin whispered, knowing this discussion could lead to the revelation of his feelings, but couldn’t let it go. Both Lucifer and himself were lost in Orphée’s essence, in his life and his feelings. They felt the same thing and as cliché as it was, he’d fight with Lucifer over Orphée no matter how many times it became necessary.

“Why should I trust you with my soul?”

“Because I trust you with mine?”

“Oh really?” A trademark smirk came onto Orphée’s lips and it was somehow so soothing to see something so normal. “Tell me your name, then I’ll tell you mine.”

“Shekinah,” he replied instantly, noting that Orphée looked shocked that he’d told him. Clearly he hadn’t believed he would. “It means unity and unconditional love.”

“You idiot! Honestly! Did it never occur to you that I could have just been playing you?! You’re such a moron! Do you realize that you just gave a demon pure power over you?! Your very soul is at my bidding now!”

“I didn’t give it to a demon, I gave it to you, Orphée.” It shut up Orphée’s rant and his cheeks glowed a little red. “And I trust you.”

There was a moment of silence and Orphée shifted in the bathtub uncomfortably. “If you laugh, I’ll kill you. It’s Nagalsabael.”

Torin blinked and a faint smile touched his lips. Why were demon names always so long? “May I call you Naga? When we’re alone?”

“What is with you? You want to be just like Lucifer or something?” Before Torin could think of a reply for that, Orphée continued. “Fine, fine. _Only_ when we’re alone. I don’t want everyone knowing my bloody True Name. You ever have a nickname?”

“No.”

“Then I’m going to call you Kinah. And don’t you try to stop me!”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he whispered and didn’t care if his wide smile disturbed Orphée or let him get a clue about the depth of his feelings.  



	15. Daylight Again

“Your apartment is small. I mean, really small. It barely takes ten steps to cover it all, and that includes bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, and living room. It’s no wonder you come over to my house so often! At least there, if you were in your angelic form, you could stretch your wings!”

Orphée had had little choice but to spend the night at Torin’s apartment. Much to his embarrassment, the archangel had refused to be detoured in his caring. Torin had washed him, though his hands never went farther down than a few inches below his shoulders. Even worse than that, he had dried him. The fight over the towel had been mortifyingly easy for Torin to win and he’d had to suffer through every inch of his body rubbed until there wasn’t a speck of wetness left on him. He also ignored the demon voice in his head that said he enjoyed it. To add insult to injury, Torin had _carried_ him all the way to the bedroom and proceeded to make Orphée comfortable regardless of the expletives hurled in his direction by said subject. The only halfway decent thing that happened was that Torin had slept on the floor, which made him strangely, uncomfortably guilty.

Torin came back into the bedroom with a glass of hot tea and Orphée grumbled that he didn’t have beer. Considering the tiny state of the apartment, they’d had little choice but to return to their human disguises, otherwise ‘tiny’ would have given way to ‘exceptionally cramped’. And since Torin refused to let him get up on account of his head injury, which felt fine except when he hurried, Orphée had decided to take up being a house critic.

“Can’t you afford something better? Surely you could have even bought a house like me.”

The archangel sat down on the edge of the bed near Orphée’s knees and sipped his drink calmly. “I suppose I could have, but I didn’t see the point until now. I was the only one who ever came here and it doesn’t cost that much to feed just me.”

That brought up something he realized he didn’t know: what Torin did to make money. He’d never made it a secret that he was a writer, but Torin always seemed to have free time. He spent hours at Yuuko’s, doing whatever she told him to research next and hours at Orphée’s house. _Not to mention on top of that, he’s always available to walk that kid home after school almost every damn day. Hmph, just because he can see spirits, he gets all the perks of having an archangel walk him home after school!_ It took him a minute to realize how that sounded, frankly jealous and almost as if he wanted to be a human going to school, and he hurriedly blamed it on his head injury.

Convenient things, near-concussions were. What a lovely scapegoat for any strange feelings he couldn’t explain away.

“What the hell do you _do_ anyway, Torin? You’re not like, a host or something?” Despite the advent of giving the archangel a nickname, saying it all the time was still a dangerous proposition. The way hearing your True Name felt, like sending ripples through your body and soul, making all your instincts heighten, wasn’t a feeling someone wanted every single time you were being called. Orphée had gotten used to it with Lucifer, but after all these thousands of years, he wasn’t anymore. Once in a while, fine.

Torin looked distinctly uncomfortable with the question. “No. I was ‘scouted’ and asked one time, a long time ago, but I declined.”

“A model?”

“The same.”

“Well then, _what_ do you do? You’re avoiding answering the question, which means it’s something that I _have_ to know. This could be really good, giving me loads of ammunition with which to tease you until the end of time with.” He nudged Torin’s side with his bare foot and blinked when Torin blushed a little at the contact. Huh. Well, wasn’t that an…interesting reaction. He’d never touched Torin before, only the archangel had ever breeched that barrier before. Well, well, well. That reaction could make touching him so interestingly fun.

The voice that Torin spoke in was soft and he found that he couldn't tease the archangel about what he was doing. Not even about being a do-gooder with this.

“I work in a crisis intervention center. I’m called in when I’m needed. We keep in touch with the police, sometimes I’m even hired by them temporarily. Often times, if someone needs help, we can get them counseling or arrange for someone to be moved, or even hidden away if necessary.” He leveled a glance at Orphée and the demon found that his expression had become serious as he’d listened. “It’s not just for battered women, in case you were thinking that. It’s for anyone who needs help. There is no specific schedule set and work hours are flexible. It doesn’t pay _a lot_ , but enough to maintain this place.”

For a second, Orphée couldn’t find his voice to say anything to that. He was a cruel bastard, that was true, and a demon, but even he wasn’t going insult that sort of thing. In this human world, sometimes the only thing that kept someone alive was a listening ear like that, or a helping hand, there long enough to help get back on their feet before they were on their own again. When he was sure he could speak with a composed tone, he said, “Figured you might work in a church or a doctor or something.”

“A church would draw notice of the other angels, and a doctor needs a degree.” Torin was the one that broke their locked gazes first and looked away.

“Times like this makes me wish I’d taken up smoking,” he muttered, waiting and relaxing when the tension in the atmosphere lifted. Orphée didn’t do well in exceptionally serious situations. Much to his embarrassment, he knew that a few months ago, he would have made a comment about Torin being a do-gooder, something sarcastic, but not now. Now, he…Oh hell, he was _not_ about to even admit to liking the guy! It wasn’t more than tolerating him…right? “I mean, it’s not like it’d kill me.”

“How’s your head?” The tension had dissipated somewhat, but it was still there, so when Torin reached over, fingers heading for his hair, Orphée grabbed the archangel’s wrist and without warning flipped them over until he’d pinned the man to the bed. It caused his head to whine with pain at the sudden movement, and a few dizzying seconds of blurriness in his gaze. Their cups of tea landed on the floor, staining the carpet, but at least the ceramic cups hadn’t broken. He smirked at Torin’s shocked and frankly, uncomfortable face.

“You know, you like touching me an awful lot. Last two weeks or so, I’ve been fondled by you practically everywhere. Maybe I should get my share in all at once?”

Torin turned a brilliant, bright red at his teasing suggestion. Orphée hadn’t planned on it, but just seeing that reaction, he couldn't help pushing the limit. Now he really had to, if it made Torin uncomfortable. He loved teasing him, because it was so _easy_ to get a rise out of him. Wondering what would happen, he poked the archangel in the chest and his smirk deepened when the man underneath him shifted, as if trying to draw away.

“Does my touching disgust you?” he asked, more in curiosity than anything else as he switched from randomly poking to actually touching, fingers wandering over Torin’s shoulders. Really, the man looked so thin, he’d never thought he might have some muscle on him after all.

“No,” came the whispered reply.

“Ah well, I suppose I shouldn’t ask. You’re an angel and you have to be nice, so of course you’d lie so I don’t ‘feel bad’.”

Without warning, his wrists were grabbed and held and he looked down in surprise at Torin’s fiery eyes. “Orphée…Naga, angels _can’t_ lie. We can’t. That’s why it’s a very bad thing to ask us questions like, ‘does this make me look fat’? You’re going to get an honest answer. We can’t even tell little white lies.” The blush, which had faded, came back in full force, even deeper than before. “So, again, no, your touch doesn’t disgust me.”

His wrists were released and Orphée sat there for a minute or two in stunned silence. Well…wasn’t that even more interesting. That human game, truth or dare, would be hilarious. Sure they couldn’t lie, but if they didn’t want to say the truth, they’d have to do the dare no matter what. Ah well. His expression became teasing again and his hands moved down to touch fully on a strangely well-defined chest. He could feel the curves and shifts in the skin and muscle even through the shirt.

“In that case,” he teased, leaning down to let his breath and words curl around Torin’s ear, “you’ll let me touch wherever I want, right? If I don’t _disgust_ you, then I must, by nature, find out how much I _delight_ you, right? Because isn’t that the opposite of disgust?”

Torin gave an adorable little sound of uneasy agreement, drawing in a strange, shaking breath. Obviously he was being polite again, too polite to push the demon off. He really wasn’t able to do anything without Orphée around. He needed a keeper, a protector, he thought, ignoring how a feeling of fondness came with the stray notion.

More often than not, while Orphée’s hands explored with mainly only curiosity in mind, Torin would shift uncomfortably, sometimes away from his touch, sometimes unintentionally into it. The longer he remained in contact with the archangel’s body, the more the reactions confused him. He didn’t quite understand why the man had such a strong feeling about it one way or another. Even if his touch didn’t disgust, surely it wouldn’t be enough to do this? Even if Torin was ‘delicate’ and blushed at any mention of sex or kissing or anything else, even he couldn’t be the type to be overly sensitive like this.

Watching the blush and wanting to know how far this accommodating angel would go, this angel that couldn't possibly deny anyone anything, he dragged his fingertips lightly over that covered torso to press down on Torin’s stomach. The reaction wasn’t what he expected. He’d expected hearing a heavy but quiet intake of breath like he’d gotten used to hearing, but that wasn’t what he got. Underneath his touch, Torin’s stomach trembled and it was the only warning he had before suddenly, the archangel’s hand was around his neck and dragging his head down.

“Hey, what—”

A tongue worming into his mouth prevented further speech. Shocked would have been a mild word to describe Orphée’s current mental state. Dumbfounded didn’t even come close. Had Torin somehow suffered his own head injury? Had his brains been completely addled when the demon hadn’t been looking? It was like having to watch over a five year old, he had told himself, only to find that said five year old wasn’t five at all.

He’d never kissed an angel before, Torin being a man notwithstanding, and decided to show him a thing or two. Really, if the man couldn't even lie, he probably didn’t know how to kiss very well, either? He’d just have to teach him. As Orphée was one of those types that went with the flow, he pressed Torin back into the bed when he responded, and managed to grin at the same time when he felt more than heard a squeak of surprise at his participation.

Everyone had their breaking point, they said, but he hadn’t expected that Torin’s breaking-point-action would be to kiss the living daylights out of him. And really, though he’d never, ever admit it on pain of death, he was pretty damn good at kissing. Once Orphée had responded, the kiss had changed from impulsive, to slow and languid. Which was all well and good, but it wasn’t something he was used to. His lovers had always been exceptionally passionate, like a flare that burned brightly for a short while and then fluttered out. He had no experience with a simmering blaze that burst up and faded down, but never went out.

 _What’s that…oh! Well, well, WELL. Isn’t that an interesting development? I didn’t think angels had a sex drive. In fact, I’m still not quite sure why it’s up because it’s just me kissing him, but maybe he’s just ‘frustrated’. He seems the type to woo slowly, enjoy a girlfriend rather than just jump into the sack, but maybe she’s neglecting him? Well, I suppose since he **did** help me, I guess I owe him that._ And of course he wasn’t looking forward to it, or even, ahem, anticipating it.

Unfortunately, even celestial or demonic beings needed to breathe, and Orphée broke the kiss. He rather enjoyed staring down at that dazed expression, eyes faintly hazy, and hair mussed from Orphée’s hands. He had, strangely, an incredible sex appeal like that and he felt his lust stirring a bit. With a smirk, he reached down and rubbed Torin’s arousal through his pants. “You know, if you wanted sex, you could have just said so.”

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because that sexy expression vanished in an instant, as if someone had thrown cold water all over him. Orphée blinked in surprise, more like indignant shock, as he was suddenly shoved off and his back hit the wall behind him hard. “What the hell, celestial?! You’re the one that came on to me! Really, come on! You should be glad! I’ve only ever done one man before and I even _offered_! Bloody hell, it’s just sex.”

Torin looked at him like a deer caught in the headlights of a car, and Orphée couldn’t comprehend the reason why such a deeply hurtful expression crossed the archangel’s face. After that, a sad understanding seemed to mix with it, something else Orphée couldn’t interpret the meaning of. _It’s not like I stabbed him in the heart with a knife or anything! Why the hell is he staring at me like **I’m** the bad guy here?!_

“I’m sorry. I have to go.”

“Go? Go where? This is _your_ apartment.”

Torin just shook his head distractedly and nearly bolted out the door. The slam rang in Orphée’s ears and he slumped against the wall to sit more comfortably on the bed in total confusion. What just happened? When he’d started touching, it had only been meant to tease him. Sure, maybe he’d pushed too far, but then Torin had kissed him and really ‘liked’ what he’d been doing. So how did that ‘really liked’ get to be ‘stabbed with hurt’? He just didn’t understand…

_Hell, that guy’s helpless. If I leave him out there like that, who knows what’ll happen to him. He’s not my responsibility; I’m only supposed to look after him just to make sure he doesn’t end up dead. I have no obligation to go after him, nor help him in any way. I shouldn’t even be feeling anything other than derision for the guy!_

Even so, he found himself getting up, pulling on his shoes, and tearing off after said archangel. Then as soon as he found him, he was going to tie him up and force him to talk. The past month had been like walking on landmines with Torin, any misstep and suddenly something happened. Strange expressions and behavior if he’d managed to step on a sensitive subject; abrupt and weird demands, like wanting to be able to call Orphée ‘Naga’.

When he found him, though, his plan completely fell through. Torin didn’t need to be looked after, at least not by him. That terrible kid already had the situation well in hand. Watanuki’s slim arms had gone around Torin’s shoulders and the expression on his face was soft and full of understanding. The archangel had buried his face in the smaller boy’s shoulder and was…

Torin had never cried in front of _him_ before.

Confusion melted away to resentful understanding. There wasn’t a girlfriend neglecting Torin’s needs. No, in fact, obviously the archangel preferred men. What really got him, though, was the revelation of what he’d almost been. What Torin had been physically asking of him. Something that Orphée’s pride would never, ever allow.

A substitute.

Obviously Torin had wanted Orphée to be a substitute. Oh, the archangel’s lips would never utter those words, but his body had said enough for him. Orphée had been chosen because he had black hair, same as the kid. And to think that he’d offered to do the other man because he…

Orphée silently took off running back to his apartment as fast as he could go. He wanted to outrun his own tears, which he would never, ever shed. Just because he could no longer hide from it, from the truth, didn’t mean that he’d ever cry for that bastard. He’d always known celestials were bastards, so high and mighty and a whole lot worse than any demon could ever be. After all, kindness and pity could hurt a hell of a lot worse than just hitting someone. He knew that they were even better masters of deception than demons because you could hide so many things behind a smile like that. Why had he thought Torin would have been any different?

Hell, Torin’s smile.

The hinges of his front door nearly came loose as he slammed it shut so hard, frantically locking each and every lock he had, bolting it tightly to keep out the world. His fingernails grew as he settled back into his demonic form out of instinct, and he dragged his nails down the door. Eight jagged edges appeared in the wood, deep gouges that mirrored the ones in his heart.

That smile was burned into his memory and yet, now that he’d stopped running, the truth had caught up to him again. He _cared_. Hell, he more than cared! He _loved_ , as insane as that was to admit. He’d offered to do that to Torin _because_ he cared, because he loved. He couldn’t even blame these stupid emotions on his head injury because he knew very well that they had to have started a long time ago for them to get this deep.

His knees gave out and he slowly slumped to the floor, his claws dragging down with him until they were just about six feet in length. He didn’t cry, not ever. He’d never, ever shed a single tear before in his life. Not even for Torin, Shekinah, god damn stupid celestial, would he cry.

Everything in the past made sense now, _everything_ , both on his end and Torin’s. For him, Torin had been a special being; For Torin, he’d been a substitute for that stupid, hateful kid that had…never done anything wrong. It was going to take a long while to get over these feelings, even for a demon, after falling this hard. “This is why I hate celestials,” he muttered to the empty air.

Even to him, his voice sounded raw.  



	16. Don't You Realize?

The tension was thick in the air when Watanuki walked into the shop that day. He learned out why when he saw Orphée lounging against the wall. Oddly enough, there was a cigarette dangling between his fingertips and he stared at it, as if he couldn't figure out why anyone would choose to smoke. When he stepped forward and Orphée looked up, the expression in his eyes was full of fire, and something very close to hate. It was a flicker, there and then gone in the blink of an eye, but that didn’t change the fact that he swore he saw it.

He remembered three days ago, how he’d been shocked when Torin had literally ran into him on his way to school. He’d looked so hurt, and needing to talk to someone so bad, that he’d forced Doumeki to go to school without him. Thankfully, his boyfriend wasn’t _that_ pushy, or maybe he felt sympathy for the distraught expression on Torin’s face, that he’d continued on without too much argument.

_“Torin-san? What’s wrong?”_

_“It hurts, Kimihiro.”_

_“What does? Your chest? You keep clutching it. If you’re injured, you should go to a doctor.”_

_“No doctor can cure this, Kimihiro. Not even God Himself can rid me of this pain.”_

Torin’s tears had been as clear as diamonds then and there had been nothing else for him to do but hold the archangel as he sobbed out the whole sorry story. The longer he listened, the more Watanuki realized just how deeply Torin had been holding in his emotions. He’d learned enough about his taller companion that he was very free with his feelings and to hide them so securely, refusing them the light of day, must have hurt so badly. From the experience of someone who was used to hiding in what they really felt, Watanuki knew that for those that had never spent their life doing it, the cost of it was a great deal of pain.

He _wanted_ to be angry at the demon for what he had put his friend through, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t blame him either. Likely Orphée had no idea about Torin’s feelings. What he did was a normal thing for the demon. He teased, he was rude, and he had no sense of propriety. That was his very nature, something as natural as to him as it was for Torin to express his feelings. No matter how he looked at it, it was a bad situation. Was there _really_ no way to have a successful relationship between angel and demon?

Yuuko was watching Orphée contemplatively, like she knew what had happened. Likely she did, but not because Orphée confided in her about it. That was just what his boss did. Finally, her eyes looked to Watanuki standing awkwardly in the doorway. There just wasn’t a way to walk into that atmosphere easily. It was tense, stifling, thick with unnamed emotions and completely unwelcoming.

“Where is Torin-san?”

“He’s not here yet,” she answered, as Orphée hadn’t said a word, nor looked like he was going to. He lifted the cigarette to his lips and took a long pull on it, holding in the smoke and letting it out slowly from his mouth in a long exhale. He didn’t cough, like someone who had just taken up smoking would, and he just assumed it was because of the demon’s physiology.

“We’ve found an answer to your problem, Watanuki.” The smoke from Yuuko’s pipe seemed to meld with that of the cigarette, giving the room an ethereal sort of haze to it. Her voice put him on edge, because the way she said it made it seem like someone, most notably either Torin or himself, wouldn’t like what she was about to say. He tensed, but she didn’t see because her gaze had gone back to Orphée, who ignored both of them and stared at the door leading out into the garden.

“We’ve basically confirmed that the spirit was likely a denizen from another, different hell. What it did to get there, we don’t know and it doesn’t really matter. Suffice it to say that of all of us, the one who has the most ties to it would be Orphée. Given he’s a demon, there is a way for him to draw the spirit into his body for a time without displacing his own.”

“How does that get rid of it though?”

“Well, it doesn’t. That’s where you come in. I will teach you the banishment spell you need for this and you will use it against Orphée. Since Orphée is a demon of Hell in this world, it will do nothing against him. You can’t send him anywhere. However, the spell will go through him and catch onto the spirit he’s holding inside of him and send it back.” Her gaze sharpened on the demon, but Orphée didn’t even so much as twitch at the intense stare. “It’s risky though. We must do it before it tries to summon anything else again, but also have enough time to correctly teach you the spell. If you don’t, you can severely harm Orphée. You can’t send him anywhere, but the spell could sever his spirit from his body and then the spirit would have a very good body to control. One that could easily kill us.”

Watanuki’s eyes widened and his own gaze fell on the demon. Between the two of them, Orphée finally glanced at them, looking completely calm and frankly, disinterested. “What’s with the horrified stare, kid? Worried that I’d die?” He gave a ‘hmph’ sort of sound and shrugged his shoulders, perching the cigarette between his teeth. “Doesn’t matter, in the end. I’ve lived a long time and if I’m gonna go, I’m gonna go. It’s one less demon in the world, isn’t that right, celestial?”

Watanuki whirled, not having noticed Torin come up behind him in the doorway. The expression on his face, to the schoolboy, was so easy to read. Horror, front and foremost, and then after that, a desperate urge to deny it, to stop it before something could happen to Orphée. Hurt lingered even beyond that, because he knew that Orphée had finally been calling him by his name.

Now he wasn’t anymore. The feeling of closeness, of ‘friend-like’ between then that had been there the last two or three months had shattered. The wall that had separate Orphée from everyone else when he’d first met the demon, the wall that had gone away recently, had come back full force and stronger than before. His red eyes were cold, terribly cold, as they stared at Torin.

“I…never, ever thought that, Orphée. Never, not once,” the archangel behind him whispered, and he detected a faint hint of pleading for Orphée to understand. Watanuki dared not turn around for a second look. He was between the two of them and if he remained quiet, they wouldn’t notice him. This atmosphere, this conversation, wasn’t something he, or even Yuuko, should get in the middle of. It was a deep ache, old and intense, a rift full of ice and…hate.

Orphée gave a bark of laughter and stood up, snuffing out his cigarette and dropping it into the bowl where Yuuko knocked out the ashes from her pipe. “Yeah. Sure, whatever. Anyway, kid, put in some overtime today with the brat and learn that spell. I want to get rid of this thing so I don’t have to see any of you ever again.”

The door closed behind him…quietly, leaving only silence behind.

-0-

“If you come to back to Hell, you’ll definitely never see any of them again.”

Orphée snorted and kept walking, his hands in his pockets and trying not to appear as hurt and sullen as he felt. “Not surprised you heard all that, Luce. Eavesdropping was always one of your best abilities.”

An arm slung over his shoulder, but he pushed it off instantly, ignoring the look of surprise on the other demon’s face. He’d never minded being touched before, let Lucifer hug him whenever he wanted, but now the only one he wanted to touch him was Torin. And that he’d never allow ever again. He’d stab him through the heart, hurt him as badly as Torin had hurt him, before he’d ever allow that archangel to touch him again.

“Once this whole thing is done with, what are you going to do, if not come back to Hell?”

Orphée shrugged. “Don’t know. Don’t care. Probably just continue what I was doing before I got roped into it all. Write, play poker with the Imps, drink and find women to seduce. That’s always been fun, right?” Right? It had been once, and he couldn’t delude himself to think it ever would be again. Not after Torin.

For a moment there was silence and he hoped that Lucifer would just walk beside him in silence. Lucifer was his best friend, the only one he’d ever really gave a shit about. As much as Lucifer had confided in him, he’d done the same in return. There had been no secrets between them. The way Lucifer had always given him hugs before…the man must have thought of him as a really close brother and been so hurt when he’d disappeared. But he couldn’t go back, pretend like he hadn’t changed. Everything had changed.

“…Did you really love Shekinah that much?” Lucifer whispered.

The very air around them seemed to freeze at that name and as much as it filled him with affection and…love, it also filled him with a terrible desire to hurt and maim. “What the hell are you talking about, Luce? There’s no fucking way that a demon can love an angel. Ever. Nor angel to demon. It’s impossible and even if it was, do you really think I’d fall for such a lowlife prick like that?”

But his split-second hesitation for denying it had been noticed and Lucifer grabbed his elbow gently, stopping his walk. Orphée refused to look in that direction, refused to even glimpse his friend. His face remained in its stony mask and in his pockets, his hands clenched into fists. No matter how he might deny it, Lucifer would know. He’d always know. Just like that damn Yuuko.

 _God damn it all, I will **not** cry for an asshole like that. Never, never, **NEVER**! I will scream it to the world, if I have to. I refuse to shed a tear for that bastard, the bastard that thought he could play a demon. And even if he did, even if he played a demon and won, that doesn’t mean I’ll cry! I’m not some weak human! Demons who got played get **revenge**._ But he knew he could never do anything to Torin. As bad as it was, he could not bear to do something to the man that he loved. Not loveable, dense, helpless Torin.

“Naga, look at me.”

He refused.

“Naga.”

Not a muscle in his neck twitched.

“Nagalsabael.”

Three times and he had no choice. When Lucifer used that tone, that soft, cajoling, but powerful voice with him and said his True Name like that…there was no denying. There was no holding back.

Lucifer was beautiful, as always. His soft, long hair was black satin and the wind shifted a few strands to touch his pale face. He’d lost his tan since creating Hell…His clothes were simple black street clothes and he didn’t look at all like the intimidating ruler of Hell that he was. Baby blue eyes, framed in a thin, aesthetic face, were watching him quietly and…with understanding. They _cared_.

It almost broke his resolve not to cry. Lucifer understood, was willing to listen. Lucifer was his friend… He sharp, pointed teeth bit his lip so hard that it pierced the skin and three perfect drops of blood welled up and perched there precariously. For one moment, he imagined Lucifer, as he had been some thousands of thousands of years ago during the war, when his hair had been icy blond. Not quite nearing the shade of silver that Torin’s was in angelic form, but… For one second, he imagined it and could almost believe that the caring in those blue eyes was that of Torin looking at him. And yet it was the same blue eyes that shattered that image, because Torin’s were as golden as the sun and as bright.

“What happened, Naga?”

Swallowing literally hurt, but Orphée did. “He doesn’t love me, Luce. I was just a fucking substitute for someone else ‘cause my hair was black.” His hands reached out to grip tightly on the sleeves of Lucifer’s shirt, balling them into fists.

Lucifer sighed and leaned forward, one of his hands twining in Orphée’s hair and bringing him closer. “It’s okay, Naga.” His lips shifted to press onto Orphée’s temple, giving him a comforting kiss and knowing that in this deserted street, it was all that Orphée would accept. Not a real hug, not where someone could see. Even this show of pain was a great allowance on a street like this. “I’m sorry, but it really will be okay. I—”

“Looking all sexy and aroused beneath me,” he interrupted, so frustrated and unable to stop his words from spilling out viciously. “Looking like _that_ and thinking about someone else…what a fucking bastard! I won’t be a substitute, I won’t!”

“Wait, aroused? You said he was aroused?”

Lucifer’s confused tone made him look up. “Yeah, why?”

Lucifer didn’t say anything for a moment and he stared at Orphée in surprise. “You mean, you didn’t know?”

“Know what?” he demanded angrily.

“That angels—”

“…Orphée…”

Lucifer never did finish, because Torin’s quiet voice interrupted them. He jerked his head and stared at the angel. The wall he’d built to protect himself came slamming back down around him and he glared at him icily. He didn’t care that Torin came searching for him after leaving Yuuko’s shop. He _didn’t_. That thrill of instinctive joy _wasn’t_ there.

Hell, how long had he been standing there?!

“What the hell do you want, celestial?”

Torin’s eyes were near to hate as he glared at Lucifer and stalked up, grabbing Orphée’s hand and pulling him away. The only reason he did it successfully was because Orphée was too surprised to fight it. Lucifer didn’t seem particularly shocked. His face was its usual poker expression that everyone but Orphée saw and he looked calm, though not entirely as disinterested as he would like to appear, no doubt. He’d never quite mastered that particular combination that Orphée did so well.

“Let me go, you fucking bastard!”

“You’re not taking him back down to Hell with you.”

“I think that’s for Naga to decide,” was the serene rejoinder.

Orphée really hated that he was being talked about like he wasn’t there. That was exceptionally frustrating. The contest of wills between the two didn’t even include him and he wasn’t about to bartered around as if he was some sort of woman between two men who loved the same person. For one thing, he wasn’t a woman, and for another, neither of these men loved him. At least not the way he wanted from Torin at any rate.

“I won’t let him go.”

“Like hell you will!” he screeched and yanked his arm out of the grip on his hand. “I can’t hit you without starting another fucking war, but don’t think for one second that I don’t want to. You ever touch me again, and make no mistake war or not, I’ll put a knife through your heart.”

Torin seemed shocked at his conviction and without even realizing it before now, Orphée knew that instead of the war, the one thing that caused him such strong emotions had changed to this archangel. That made him even hurt even more, made the betrayal that much deeper. Never. Never again.

Lucifer’s gaze flickered between them and he shrugged. “I’ll come by your house tomorrow, Naga, and see what’s changed then.” There was something like pain in his smile as he waved and walked away, something Orphée didn’t understand. He wanted to beg him to come back, stay by his side so that he’d had something to draw strength from, but he was left alone. Left alone with his knees going weak and barely able to keep up the front of being uncaring.

Pretending a show of indifference he didn’t feel, he turned on his heel and stalked back to his house, but Torin wasn’t about to be lost that easily. Frustrated but not wanting to let it show, he yanked out a cigarette and lighter from his pocket and lit it up as he unlocked his door. Why had he taken it up? For the simple reason that he knew that Torin wouldn’t like it. He didn’t want anything ‘good’ left in him anymore. He wanted to be bad, to be as evil as he could, because if you were evil, you couldn’t care. Or so they said, anyway.

The cigarette was snatched from his lips and stubbed out. Flaring with anger, he whirled around and snapped, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?! I want you out, _out_! I want you _gone_! I never want to see you again!”

Torin bolted the locks and turned around. Those golden eyes that had captured him were full of fire and fever bright. This Torin he wasn’t used to. This Torin that was implacable, that refused to be moved, and wasn’t the pushover that Orphée had come to know. This was the one that his editor saw, that the other demons saw. It hurt, because he had thought he was special to the archangel too, because he saw something that no one else had.

What a big, fat lie.

“Were you going back to Hell?” was the quiet, but stern voice.

“Not like it fucking matters to you, celestial, but I wasn’t! Soon as I get you guys out of my hair, I’m going back to my life. Hell, maybe I’ll even travel. I can’t even stand to be in the same country as you right now!”

Hands gripped his shoulders tightly and he fought with all his might to get out of it, but Torin just wasn’t letting go. Between Torin fighting to hold on and he fighting to break free, they tipped over three chairs, knocked everything off his counter, and shattered one of his coffee tables before landing on the sofa.

“I _said I’d stab you through the heart if you touched me again!_ ” he screamed, hoping that Torin would buy that. He couldn’t do it, and he berated himself for being so weak. There was no way he could do that, but he hoped that Torin would believe it and let go. He couldn't think when those hands were on him.

“You already did, Naga.”

The name ripped through him, making him feel both purely clean and incredibly dirty. He kicked out, intensifying his struggles and they landed hard on the floor, but Torin’s hands only shifted to hold onto his wrists so that neither one of them landed a black eye. “I _HATE_ YOU!” he screamed finally at the top of his lungs, an outlet for his feelings, and fell quiet, gasping and exhausted.

“I know,” Torin whispered, sounding so sad that he couldn’t help looking at him. A hand gently touched his neck and traveled up to hold his cheek. It seemed to paralyze him, that soft caress, and hoped that Torin didn’t notice. “I know, but I can’t help my feelings.”

“If he meant that god damn much to you, then you should have said something to the kid!”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t feel that way about Kimihiro?!” It was the first time he’d ever heard Torin yell and it shocked him into silence. “Why don’t you understand?! Or are you putting me through this much pain on purpose?! I didn’t think you, of all people, would be this cruel!”

“Fuck you, celestial! Cruel?! I’ll tell you cruel! I will not be a substitute! You want to screw the kid so much, go do it with him! How dare you lead me on like that, make me think you want me, like you give a shit about me, and then back water! Go running to the object your fucking obsession! Well, gee, I’m so god damn _sorry_ that I’m not sixteen and a bloody human school kid!”

Torin blinked and stared at him as he lay there, gasping after his outburst. “ _Surely_ you knew about the angels. Surely Lucifer would have _told_ you.”

“Told me fucking _what?!_ ”

As he watched, Torin let him up and sat there in front of him on his knees. “Angels can’t…physically react unless we love someone. We…‘can’t get it up’ unless feelings are deeply strong of love.”

“…What?”

Torin began to laugh, one that sounded as if he could not believe how both of them completely missed the mark. Orphée propped himself up on his elbows and stared at him like he’d lost his mind. What the hell sort of nonsense was he spewing this time?!

Without warning, a hand moved around the back of his neck and pulled him into a deep kiss, just like it had three days ago. It felt significantly different this time around, knowing his feelings. It tasted of sunshine and life, power coiled and controlled. He jerked away when he felt not only his knees but also stomach go weak at the sweet sensation.

“Orphée, angels can’t get an erection without having the feelings to match.”

The earnest expression on the archangel’s face was priceless and he let the man stew before blurting out, “I’m surprised you can say the word erection with a straight face. How long were you practicing?”

Torin burst out laughing, this time sounding joyful, and wrapped his arms around Orphée tightly. “I’m sorry, _Naga_. I’ll tell you what I should have told you a long, long time ago: I love you. I love you so very, very much.”

Orphée blinked rapidly, refusing let even a hint of wetness appear. “’Bout time,” he muttered hoarsely and hugged him back just as tightly, reveling for the first time in knowing what it felt like to be completely happy.  



	17. Interlude - Beautiful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not Worksafe

It was a bit difficult to get a decent rhythm for kissing, as Torin enjoyed taking it slow and languid, and Orphée favored short and powerful ones. Their tongues battled it out for dominance and in the end, Torin’s won. He dove into Orphée’s mouth before the demon could change his mind and arms dragged his beloved into his lap. The kiss prolonged on until it felt like eternity and if he didn’t have to breathe, he wouldn’t have parted for anything.

Teasingly, Orphée ground his hips down a little and Torin stifled a moan. He knew Orphée liked to tease him, it was no doubt a habit, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t get to him even now. The urge was incredible, but he wasn’t about to let this degenerate into animalistic lust right there on the floor, on top of the shattered remains of Orphée’s coffee table. It wasn’t about just physical satiation.

Orphée gave a sound that he could only describe as a ‘squawk’ when he picked him up and carried him back to the bedroom. Whether it was because of the sudden movement, the fact that he knew where the bedroom was, or because he’d guided the demon’s legs to twine around his waist as he walked, he remained uncertain. By the time he’d set him down on the bed, gently, his partner was beginning to get the idea.

“Hold on, hold on, _hold on_. Are you saying that I’m bottom? You’ve probably never been with anybody, especially male, before!”

Torin didn’t say anything for a long moment and was distinctly uncomfortable about answering, because he knew that Orphée would probably read all sorts of wrong things into it. “Not entirely true. I was with a man…once.”

“I thought you said you couldn’t get an erection if you didn’t love that person. Are you saying you did?”

Seeing the jealousy sparking in his lover’s eyes, he hastened to reassure him, kissing him sweetly so that Orphée might know just how deep his feelings ran. “In a manner of speaking. I did care for him greatly and felt compassion for him. He held an unrequited love and was feeling particularly depressed. My feelings were apparently sufficiently strong enough that I felt something.”

“You sure that’s not just what this is then?”

He smiled softly and slowly pulled off Orphée’s shirt, worshipping the skin beneath him in a sinful but wonderful way. “I’m sure. This feeling I have now, like I’m burning up from the inside out, wasn’t there before. Every time I see your smiles, I treasure them. They are so beautiful, it makes me ache in my heart and my groin. I was terrified you’d notice my awkward state when I took care of you after you got injured, so I dared not look below your shoulders. Even choirs of angels cannot compare to your voice and I welcome its assault to my ears, even if it is nothing more than curse words.”

By the time he finished speaking, Orphée was bright red. “How can you just say those embarrassing things?! _How?!_ You’re killing me here!”

“Then I shall have to bring you back to life,” he whispered and stole another kiss, dragging it out until his lungs screamed for air. He might have continued indefinitely with that regardless, if something wrapping around his wrist hadn’t distracted him. It was not a hand…

Orphée smirked and flexed his tail, tightening around his wrist. “Let’s make this more sacrilegious,” he replied and opened his wings a little, the red and slightly transparent membrane and black bones looking particularly striking and beautiful against the lights of the bedroom. His almost black skin shown to Torin’s eyes and though it would be dangerous with Orphée’s almost five-inch claws, he didn’t care. This had nothing to do with attraction in their human form, and he would prove it. Tonight would be Heaven and Hell meeting, in stark reality. The opposites would embrace, in a union that was forbidden but unstoppable.

His hair grew out to his knees and turned silver, clothing shifting to his more angelic ones. The room may have been big, but it wasn’t overwhelmingly so, and because of the close quarters, his pure white feathers brushed along that of Orphée’s wings. It caused him to shiver and this time when he pried off that heavy, armored jacket of his lover, it was without a sense of panic and with an urge of lust.

“Naga…you said you were with a man before. Were—”

“I didn’t love him, before you ask,” Orphée interrupted, though that wasn’t what Torin had been about to say. He didn’t realize that he’d been so anxious until he heard that. Some of the tension seeped from his shoulders and he sighed.

“Was it Lucifer?”

“Was it…? What is it with you and Luce?! Seriously! Luce is about as straight as they come! We’ve been friends, practically brothers, since he started the war! Never, ever! I love the man, but not like that! Besides, he only plays top and I’ve never—Erk.” Orphée suddenly stopped talking and by the way his cheeks flared red, he obviously hadn’t intended to make it clear that he was a virgin for playing bottom.

_He really has no idea that Lucifer’s probably been in love with him since the war. But oblivious Orphée, my sweet naïve Nagalsabael, you can stay that way. I will nurture that innocence you will no doubt deny is there. I will give my life to protect that…and you._

“Do you need me to tell you what to do?”

“No need,” he replied in a murmur that ended up sounding seductive and he felt Orphée shiver beneath his hands. He smiled and slowly undid each buckle of that breastplate, letting it drop onto the floor next to bed with a thud. He would definitely take his time like this.

“You’re serious?! You played top that time you just told me about?! Who was it? It’s got to be another angel.”

“Erm...you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

However, Orphée wasn’t entirely naïve and he was putting the pieces together. “Jesus Christ!” he cursed, eyes wide and staring at the ceiling as if it were a foreign object.

“Yes,” he replied with a sigh and dragged off his beloved’s boots until all that remained were those greaves to get out of the way.

“Hell, I’d never have…I mean, he was…Who was his—?”

Torin huffed and kissed him soundly to keep him quiet. “My most wonderful beloved, can you please stop asking about this? I do realize it’s shocking, but surely you should be thinking about more gratifying, and immediate, pleasures. And people. Such as me.”

Orphée grinned and deliberately writhed on the bed beneath him, mock masking it by making it seem like he was stretching. Torin swallowed thickly and just watching that made his loins ache with desire. “Were you jealous, Kinah?”

Even if it was a nickname, it resounded in his heart as if it were his full one and he moaned slightly at the pleasant sensations that he felt thrumming through his soul as if it were a physical touch. “Yes,” he whimpered truthfully and leaned down to leave kisses around Orphée’s nipples. “I was jealous. Of Lucifer for being so close to you, for you asking such questions as if I wasn’t as important as a bit of gossip.”

His lover laughed and he felt the vibrations in Orphée’s chest. “You’re helpless, completely hopeless on top of that.” There was a pause and warmth he’d never heard filled the demon’s voice and made him lift his head. “But there’s nothing to do with you. Guess I’ll just have to stick around and protect you from all those baddies out there. Now get out of those clothes or I’ll take them off for you.” He licked one of his long, sharp nails in punctuation.

Torin smiled indulgently and began to take off his jacket and shirt. He missed his armor, but this had its advantages. While his plate mail had been light, it wasn’t the easiest to get out of in a hurry. He noted that Orphée’s red eyes hungered on every bit of skin he exposed and though it put a faint blush on his cheeks, he was oh-so-happy about it, to know that his demon, _his_ demon, wanted him just as badly. Hands stopped him when he reached for his pants and drew them to Orphée’s greaves. “Take them off for me,” he murmured, nipping at the archangel’s lips, and Torin thought that even succubus would be jealous of that voice.

“As you wish, my Naga,” he replied and leaned down to kiss his lover. Between his busy hands and mouth, he failed to notice where Orphée’s tail had gone until something slim wrapped around his length and squeezed _tightly_. “Naga!” he moaned in faint protest, all movement halted as he tried to remember how to breathe.

“What are you waiting for now?” came the smoothly calm voice in his ear. “We’ll be here all night if you don’t hurry up.”

“You…”

“Haven’t you realized how much I love to _torment_ you? It’s what demons do best.” There was a faint nuzzling against his ear and as if to make things worse, that very supple tail pressed down on his faintly leaking tip. “I _will_ break that iron control of yours.”

With shaking hands, he managed to rid them both of their pants, though how later remained a mystery. And true to his word, Orphée did indeed enjoy tormenting him. Faster than he would have thought possible, the demon had found every one of his sensitive spots and was exploiting them to the best of his ability. Able to look more fully at the body beneath him, and as much as he liked, Orphée looked even more beautiful than before, scars and all. As if not caring about who had what position, his legs widened invitingly and Torin had to bite his lip to maintain any sense of calm.

“Naga…”

“What are you waiting for, Kinah?”

Hesitating only once, Torin reached down, prompted by Orphée’s urgings, to find that virgin entrance. His lips descended on the pert nipples and he heard his lover’s moans for the first time. Every time he twitched his head, there was a faint jingle from his multitude of earrings as they touched together and he followed the sound of them closely. He ran his feathers along the outside of Orphée’s body, earning him a faint, low howl of pleasure. He treasured every sound, for the same reason that he did every smile: because they were so rare, they were never to be taken for granted. So many times Orphée would never just say what he really felt or thought, so there had to be something to look for that would tell the truth. And Torin was learning them all.

“My Naga, you must be an incubus, for I have never desired anyone else more than I have you. You drive me to distraction, until I can think of nothing else but the color of your eyes and the way your voice sounds when it is breathy and so very ethereal.” He slid his second finger in gently and was watching so closely that he didn’t miss the faint flash of discomfort on his lover’s face. “Shh, my love. It’ll be all right. I won’t hurt you.”

“Don’t treat me like a woman, I know all that,” Orphée snapped, but it was lacking its usual harsh tone. By now, Torin had learned that particular kind of voice meant he was embarrassed, probably at how he was being loved so gently. But it wasn’t in an angel’s nature, especially not Torin’s, to be harsh.

“Let me treasure you, Nagalsabael,” he whispered and loved how that full name caused his lover to arch into his touch. In response, the tail around him shifted to caress him more firmly and he was reaching the limit of his restraint. He wanted to fully prepare Orphée, didn’t want to hurt him, but if he kept this up…

Without warning, Orphée dragged him close and their lips met in a passion that was so full of fire that Torin felt that he was losing himself in it. No wonder Hell was so enticing to Fallen Angels, how easy it was to give up and just let yourself fall into that promise of freedom, uncontrolled and with no restraints. Orphée seduced him all over again with that kiss and he knew that he’d never step foot into Heaven again, not by his own will. Whether God would allow it or not, he would never, ever willingly leave the side of this demon.

“Hurry up,” came the whispered moan when their lips parted and dumbly, he nodded. His hands urged those lithe legs to wrap around his waist, feeling each and every muscle twitch under his touch. He caressed them, aching to feel them as if they were part of his own body. It caused Orphée to writhe on the bed, this time for real, and he made a mental note that this was obviously one of his lover’s sensitive spots.

The tail, slick and wet now, unwrapped from around him, but if he thought that it would allow him to think straight, he was sorely mistaken. Now it was even worse, because he could focus only on the throbbing ache of his groin with nothing to relieve it. “Naga…Naga, are you sure you’re all right with this?”

For once, it appeared as if Orphée was too lost in the moment to be anything but truthful. “Position doesn’t matter, Kinah, so long as it’s you.” Red flared up brightly and those hazy eyes wouldn’t meet his because of embarrassment. “If it’s you…If it’s you, then I guess I don’t mind giving you…well, give you It.”

Apparently Orphée did have some words he found embarrassing to say and apparently ‘virginity’ was one of them. He was a bundle of contradictions and that made him even endearing. Smiling softly, he oh-so-gently guided himself in, stopping whenever Orphée made a gasp tinted with pain. He was paying so much attention to his lover that he wasn’t even giving any notice to his own needs until his lustful demon had flipped them over and he was on the bottom.

A few of his feathers got stuck in awkward positions against the bed and he winced in pain when they pulled, but that was quickly forgotten as he looked up and saw Orphée straddling him. “Incubus,” he teased a little when he saw his lover seductively run his tongue along one of his claw-like nails again while he waited to get used to the sudden length invading his body.

“Nah, not a smidgeon of that kind of blood in me,” was the quiet rejoinder, but it wasn’t any less confident than the rest of his speech in normal circumstances. “But if I arouse you to this extent, I’ll take that as a compliment. Come to think of it, I’m probably the only demon to have sex with an angel.”

“Naga,” he whispered pleadingly. “Please…speak of no one else but us. I don’t wish to hear about any other demon or angel, or who they bed.”

“You’re completely infatuated with me.” The smirk was full and bright and slowly those hips began to rock. Not quite thrusting, but enough to cause Torin to gasp in pleasure. Nothing he’d ever experienced in his one-time only dalliance with anyone could have ever prepared him for how it felt. To become one for even a few seconds with the person he had come to love so deeply was a gift that he had never known existed until now.

“Let me…Let me hear you say it just once,” he begged.

Now Orphée was moving up and down and it wrenched a cry from his throat, almost making him forget what he’d asked. “Say what, _Shekinah_?”

His name thrilled right through his bloodstream and in a surge of love, he enclosed them both with his white wings, regardless of Orphée’s own demon ones. It was a world unto them alone, nothing was allowed entry unless Torin let it. He would protect his demon, his most beautiful of companions. “Let me hear you say you love me.”

Orphée froze above him and he moaned in protest. “Why?” was the emotionless, quiet question.

“Because I need to know. Just this once, so that I know, let me hear you say it, from your lips. I don’t want to just guess, read into words that mean that, just in case I’m wrong. I need to hear you say it.”

For a moment, all was silent, and Torin feared that this was but a dream, or worse, a living nightmare. That the words that would come out would not lift him to the most highest of joys, but deep into the bowels of pain. The moment lasted longer than he expected and he couldn’t help enclosing them both even tighter in his wings. His eyes pleaded for words, anything but the silence.

Red flooded Orphée’s cheeks again and his confident expression disappeared to replaced by something that Torin could only call ‘vulnerable’ and ‘exposed’. “Only this once. I’ll only say this once, so remember it. Because even if you get jealous, I won’t say it again.” A pause for silence the length of a heartbeat, a heartbeat that lasted a whole year. “I love you, Shekinah.”

Orphée had made it such a smooth transition so that Torin didn’t know when the words ended or when his lover had begun to move again. Instinctively, his hands came up to hold the demon’s waist, help brace him as he thrust in time, taking over the rhythm somewhat so that it was somewhere between quickly passionate and languidly loving.

A faint cry interrupted the only sound in the room of the jangling of Orphée’s earrings and it rang in the archangel’s ears like music. He’d never realized until now just how much weight was lifted when he heard those words. How much anxiety disappeared completely when he was sure, heard them for himself. The memory of it, the way those words sounded as they fell from the demon’s lips, burned itself into his mind so that no matter what would happen, he would never forget.

“Slower,” he moaned, wanting the moment to last, but Orphée was having none of it.

“Slower later. I love fast.”

Fast it was, then, as he was being ridden into a pleasurable oblivion. As careful as Orphée was with his claws, they did rake some welts down his back when Torin surged up to hold the demon tight and those arms went around him. Somehow, their wings didn’t get tangled in a painful way and he ran his lips over Orphée’s nearest one. Something very near a scream echoed and there was a spasmodic tightening around his length that felt so good, he almost climaxed.

“Kinah…Hell, Kinah, harder!”

“No harder,” he replied, shifting his attention to suckling on a nipple right in front of his mouth. “If you pick the speed, I pick the force.” Orphée looked down just as Torin smiled sweetly up at him, earning him the most adorable blush yet. “And I want to love you gently.”

Much to his surprise, the speed settled down and Orphée urged them over until the demon was on the bottom again. “I can’t believe you’ve turned me into such a sap.” Their eyes wouldn’t meet, but Torin knew that there was embarrassment there even without seeing it. “So…do whatever the hell you want.”

Torin’s smile became lovingly pampering and he shifted to the pace he’d wanted to do the most: languid, gentle, and slow. It felt so much better like this, able to feel the sensations so much more potently. And he wanted to do it like this because it would show Orphée just how much he treasured him. Just because Torin was on top didn’t mean that his lover was any less important. In fact, he was more important than anything, meant more than his own immortal soul. The only way he could think of properly express this was not with words, but with action.

He was worshipping this demon, in a way that he deserved.

A hand slipped between their moving bodies to slowly stroke that aching arousal and Orphée cried out, thrusting upward instinctively, but unable to change the pace. “You said I could do as I wanted,” he reminded teasingly, but there was no response to that. Given the sweat on their bodies and the strain on his lover’s face, it was all Orphée could do to hold back.

Really, to hold back was silly, but that was his beloved’s pride.

“I want us to come together,” he whispered, his other hand gripping the mussed sheets beneath them so tightly, not trusting himself not to bruise Orphée if he held him in any other place. Torin’s cramped wings stretched out a little as he neared the end of his restraint, his hand moving faster. For the first time, Orphée seemed at a loss and that beautiful body trembled beneath him, ready to do as he bid.

That singular moment when they came together, when their wings stretched to their limits and knocked things down off any nearby surface; when they arched their backs, and cried out, love surrounding them like a cocoon, became the most beautiful moment in Torin’s life. A deep and strong magic had been woven and when they joined, he swore that their separate hearts beat at the exact same moment and rhythm. A temporary link was born, and he found his soul drowning in Orphée’s emotions. Love, embarrassment, jealousy, happiness, pleasure, and an overwhelming possessiveness all became his own and he embraced them, welcomed them into his heart where he would protect them all.

The moment passed, the link faded, and he remained only himself, sweating and gasping over top of the demon. He couldn’t move right then, didn’t want, reveling in the sweet, silent after-haze. It was only as he was pulling out and Orphée gave a faint, awed curse that he realized he had expected the demon to be quite…vocal during sex. Now that he thought about it, it was almost as if there were something missing.

When he mentioned it, Orphée looked distinctly uncomfortable and glanced away in embarrassment. “What?” he prompted when he didn’t quite get it.

“I said, you deaf moron, that I knew you’d want this whole ‘first-time’ thing to be special, so…I did all the cursing in my head.” Burgundy eyes flashed back at him sternly. “But don’t think I won’t the next time! You only get one special night.”

Torin grabbed the hand that pointed at him repeatedly and gently kissed the back of it, pure love overwhelming his very being. “Every moment, every night, with you is special.”

Instead of just his cheeks, Orphée’s whole face turned red and he could practically feel the heat wafting off of him. “Idiot!”  



	18. Get Out Alive

“I beg you to reconsider, Orphée. Too many things could go wrong! Please, I don’t want to lose you, not ever.”

Orphée turned bright red at the words and when he was hugged and he struggled to break free, very much aware that they had an audience. “You emotional idiot! Don’t you have any faith in the kid? Come on, I’m a strong-willed demon! Nothing is going to happen!”

“It’s not that I don’t trust Kimihiro, but what if the spirit is stronger than expected?”

Yuuko hid her smirk at seeing Orphée terribly flustered. He was frantically trying to break loose of the protective hold Torin had on him, but the archangel was strong, if nothing else. Watching these two was almost as fun as watching Watanuki and Doumeki. It had been quite hilarious to watch, well stare really, at the demon when he’d first come in and tried to find a sitting position that didn’t give him too much pain.

Torin was oh so solicitous when he’d hovered around his new ‘bride’. Yuuko didn’t think she’d ever get tired of teasing Orphée about their new relationship. And really, it was quite amusing to watch Torin as well. Now their status had changed to lovers, he was quite forceful in his worry and confident in his new role of ‘protector’. Torin had always let Orphée railroad him before, probably because he didn’t feel it was his place to argue. But much to her endless enjoyment, Orphée was now finding it very difficult to win over the archangel when it came in terms to his safety.

She could see out of the corner of her eye, Watanuki cowering in the corner and probably hoping that she’d forgotten about him, but never fear, she thought at him. Once Torin and Orphée left, she’d turn her attention to him and tease him about that little picnic trip he and Doumeki had gone on a week ago. She’d been so busy she hadn’t even properly had time to torment any of those around her, and really, that was a crime. It shouldn’t be allowed.

“Is the lovers’ quarrel over?” she injected when there was a moment of silence and enjoyed the black look that Orphée shot at her. They both knew that he couldn’t deny it, but he’d try anyway.

“It _wasn’t_ a lovers’ quarrel! It’s him being an idiot!”

“Really? So, you having trouble _sitting_ on your _behind_ this morning doesn’t at all indicate that you had sex with Torin, therefore now becoming lovers, which of course, makes this argument completely not an argument, because Torin is just being an idiot, rather than having it a lovers’ quarrel in which he is being overprotective of you, as being his new lover, and you are so vehement in your denials of his concern and conclusions, merely because you’re embarrassed because you have an audience and you’re losing the fight?” Man, that was long-winded and she’d had to try really hard to not seem out of breath by the end of it, but she just loved making sentences like that and watching Orphée’s face just darken and darken and darken with red until he looked like he would explode.

Saving people and the worlds was all well and good, but she had to have at least a little fun doing it!

Orphée glared at her, seeming at a loss for what to say for the first time in his life. She made a mental note to check to see if pigs were flying before getting serious. Sighing, she shifted and lit her pipe, making another mental observation that Orphée had not brought any cigarettes with him. And the demon had said that Torin was a pushover! If anyone was weak against their lover, it was Orphée. He probably just couldn't say ‘no’ to the archangel. Really, completely whipped, she thought evilly.

“In all seriousness, both of you need to realize this is our only option. We’ve spent nearly a month trying to figure out how to deal with this problem and it’s reaching almost unmanageable levels. Granted, the situation hasn’t degenerated into Watanuki being attacked left and right, or in danger of dying yet like with the crown, but if we leave it much longer, even more complications will arise. Heaven and Hell are becoming very active, obviously since they ‘attacked’ you both a few days ago. We can’t deal with those two at the same time as this spirit. If we had all the time in the world, we could find another solution, but we don’t. Time is of the essence right now and we must take care of one problem at a time. Once the spirit is dealt with, then we will move on to Heaven and Hell.” She lit up her pipe calmly, completely disregarding Orphée’s shocked expression.

“What, you mean to say you’re actually _not_ going to leave me and Torin high and bloody dry when this thing is over and forget all about our problems?”

“I’m offended you think I would,” she replied coolly, not at all offended because she knew Orphée had been going to say that. Think what he would, she wasn’t evil incarnate. “I had never planned to desert you once this was finished. You’re just too skeptical of me, Orphée! I’m wounded!”

“Yeah right,” came the muttered, cynical voice.

Her gaze shifted to Torin’s, who countenance wasn’t happy. He clearly didn’t like this idea at all, which she didn’t blame him, but also knew that she was right. “Well, Torin? Any further protests?”

“Many, but none that would make what you said untrue. We have no choice.” Much to her amusement, his arms tightened around Orphée’s shoulders despite the objections from Orphée. Really, poor thing. He had it awfully bad for the demon. Well…maybe not so poor. After all, it wasn’t like his love was unrequited or anything. Though she did feel bad for being the bearer of bad news and ruining his good mood after a night of hot sex with Orphée.

“Anyway, you two, I suggest you spend as much time as you can with each other, because in three days time, we risk it all.” Her gaze turned to her employee, who looked both serious and completely fearful at the same time. His confidence that he could do this was nil, and that was something she had to remedy. As she’d learned in being a wish granter, confidence became half the magic to most spells. “Can you do it, Watanuki?”

His mismatched eyes glanced at Torin, and though she knew he didn’t feel that way, he nodded. “I can.” Whether or not he believed it in his heart of hearts, Torin’s expression lightened a little as he allowed himself to be reassured.

“Are you sure this is going to be okay?” Watanuki asked when they were alone, a rare occurrence lately. Usually either Torin or Orphée would be nearby so she could tell them to check on something while she did something else. She was completely overworked! Even the crown situation hadn’t been this bad!

“It’ll have to be. If you don’t want Torin to be devastated, you’re going to have to get the spell right. There won’t be a second time.”

He winced. “No pressure, right?”

“Wrong, Watanuki.” When he looked at her in surprise at her serious tone, she continued. As much as she didn’t want to, as he’d been through hell and back this year, there was no choice. He needed to be firmly grounded in reality and realize what his future held. “There is enormous pressure on you and I would highly suggest getting used to it. It’s not going to go away. Your power is incredible and you will, in essence, becoming the focal point for millions of souls in millions of afterlifes. True, you probably won’t have a lot to do, things are usually pretty settled, but you have to realize that any magical action you take will not only affect yourself, but everything you’re connected to. It’s not longer about ‘can I do this’, but you must.” Her gaze softened and she whispered, “I’m sorry. Your wish was to have the exact opposite of what’s in front of you, but even I can’t do anything about this. Maybe in another life, things would have been different, but not now. There are things even beyond my control and this would be it.”

“I’d always believed that you could solve everything with a wish.”

“Just about everything can be solved with a wish, the only problem comes in with the price. For me to remove this from your future, you would have to, at the very least, cease to exist. Your very soul is dictating this. I can’t remove your soul, without destroying every inch of you along with it. And I’m not sure that even that would be payment enough for that sort of wish.”

He sighed and for once, looked completely dejected and yet resigned. As if he’d expected this a long time ago. “I’d just wanted to know what it would like to be normal.”

Yuuko laughed, which surprised him enough to break him out of his surrendered attitude. “Watanuki! Do you really think anyone is normal? Even people you think are normal, aren’t! There isn’t a definition for normal, as it’s extremely subjective. What you think is abnormal, might be perfectly normal for someone else. Compared to the world that you’ve been entrenched in, you are perhaps the most normal one, next to Doumeki-kun. Look at Torin and Orphée! You think _they’re_ normal? Torin’s an archangel and Orphée is a demon. They fell in love. That is the epitome of _abnormal_.”

Watanuki seemed to think about it and gave a weak chuckle. “When you put it that way, I suppose I am normal.”

Good. That was better. She really hated to see her employee so depressed. She clapped him hard on the shoulder and gave him her mega-watt smile. “Forget about what could have been and deal with what’s now, and how you can get some fun out of it! You’ll probably be around Orphée and Torin for a long, long time to come, long after I’m gone, and I have to teach you how to tease him properly!”

“…Oh…joy…”

Really, laughter was better than anger, she thought as she tugged Watanuki up to follow her to her workroom. Best get started on that spell!

-0-

Orphée waited impatiently while Yuuko gave Watanuki some more pointers. Torin stood ramrod straight and still as a bone, which meant that he was probably worrying himself sick. He’d spent the last three days trying to talk him out of it, but Orphée managed to successfully distract the man with sex, talking, or embarrassingly romantic stuff like walking through the park. Which he’d never admit to Yuuko on pain of death. She’d never let him hear the end of it.

He knew, as Torin had told him repeatedly, that it had never been about not trusting the kid with the spell. It had been about the ‘what ifs’, the unexpected things that could occur to make everything go wrong. Orphée knew the consequences, and while he’d never done this before, he couldn’t imagine that it could unseat a demon. Not a demon in its own body and in its own world. Perhaps his confidence was foolhardy, but he wasn’t about to start doubting himself now.

His eyes shifted away from his lover to the one other person not saying a word. It was hard to tell what went on the exorcist’s mind, but his eyes were as glued to Watanuki and Torin’s were to him. They were doing this in Yuuko’s front yard and it had been pathetically easy for the demon and archangel to waylay the possessed teacher after school. It had long since given up trying to pretend that it was shocked and surprised and merely sat there. It didn’t even bother trying to break free from the tight rope that bound the body.

He hoped it was resignation and not smug confidence that caused it to be so calm.

Watanuki stepping forward told him that it was time to start the whole shebang. Crouching down next to the teacher’s body, he waited until their eyes met. “Not sure whether to curse you or thank you,” he sneered at it, voice low enough so that it wouldn’t carry to anyone else’s ears. “Because of you, I’ve been served no ends of troubles and it’s really pissed me off. On the other hand,” He glanced at Torin, “you did get me something very, very interesting.”

Pulling the spirit into him was an almost pathetically easy thing to do. The chains to the body snapped as if he’d flicked his fingers at it. The spirit slid free from the body without even fighting it and into his own. Watching for a moment longer and the chain that bound body to earth faded away and the teacher slumped with a long, drawn out sigh. He didn’t need to check for a pulse to know the body was dead.

Standing up, he winced a little at a sense of vertigo and a suddenly pounding headache. _In bloody Lucifer’s name, **shut the fuck up already!** Your screaming at me gets on my nerves! Hell if I know what you’re saying, it’s complete gibberish, so you’re just wasting your time!_ However the bond of mind to soul had been very strong, and as such, the spirit was a bit more mentally powerful than he expected. Obviously, it was unsure of what was going on, so apparently it was deciding to try to annoy him to death.

“Hurry the fuck up, kid,” he growled, bad tempered and barely able to see around the ringing in his brain. “Can’t stand the god damn screaming!”

Orphée couldn’t hear the chanting, or words exchanged, as it was like water was running in his ears and distorting everything, combined with a high-pitched tuning noise. He wavered dangerously on his feet, but Yuuko had forbid anyone to come near him until it was over. Any distraction of his attention to the outside world and instead of in to keep the spirit controlled could jeopardize his life.

He felt the spell take hold, firm but gentle, much like Torin’s touch. With a burst of power, his human form faded away into his true, demonic one, and he felt himself rooted even more firmly in the here and now. The reminder of Torin flashed in his memories and strengthened the chain of his mind to his soul because of his strong emotions. When the spell became constrictive, he gasped for breath as if it were a physical sensation. It was uncomfortable, near to the point of pain, for his body, and yet his soul felt fine…at least it did before he realized what the spirit was doing.

Like a desperate man with only a crude weapon at hand, it was attacking one of his chains. There was no way to break the mind and soul link, as demons and angels were extremely spiritual beings. That chain was not only extra thick, but also had more than one twining in it. The last thing it wanted would be to attack the chain holding body to earth, as that would be counterproductive to both of them, as neither of them would have a body. That only left…

_You piece of shit! You think I’m gonna let you sever the chain of soul and body?! You’re dead fucking wrong. I’m not going **anywhere** and I’m gonna make sure you know that!_

His will soared down to reinforce the chain and fight the spirit off, but it was surprisingly difficult. Hands and wings spasmodically clenched and moved in the world, but he was so busy trying to fight off a fierce attack that he didn’t have time to even control his own body. He knew instincts to survive were incredible things, they could make the impossible happen, but it shouldn’t be this hard to fight it off in his own body, on his own god damn playing field!

Shockingly, the spirit was making some headway and a dent appeared in one of the links on the chain. For one terrifying second, he felt fear and the spirit knew it. Their emotions overlapped more and more as they resided in the same body, and it seemed to crow in delight, redoubling its efforts. _Screw that shit, you’re not killing me!_

He refused, absolutely refused, to let Torin’s ‘what ifs’ win against him. He refused to let the fear that he’d die, that worry, in his lover’s eyes become real. He may never say it, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel as strongly about Torin as the archangel did about him. And he wasn’t going to let anything hurt gentle, naïve, sweet Shekinah.

Even if he had to kill to do it.  



	19. Days of the Phoenix

Torin understood in an instant why Doumeki Shizuka was there when arms latched around his torso from behind and kept him firmly in place. No matter how he tried, the grip on him was like a vise, preventing him from hurrying to the form that had fallen to his knees. His throat was locked up, no sound escaping his mouth, but his eyes said it all for him anyway. For someone that wasn’t nearly as tall as he was, nor as physically powerful as he was, this teenager was doing an exceptional job at keeping him still.

Yuuko stood at Watanuki’s shoulder and kept urging him on when he faltered every time a faint whimper came from Orphée’s mouth. Part of him wanted it to end, stop it right there, but another said to continue, to hurry it up so there would be less pain for his beloved.

It wasn’t until the grip had changed from going around his chest from behind to holding his wrists tightly that he realized instinctively he’d shifted out of his human form. His wings were ruffled and he almost took to the sky, knowing that he could break out of the hold that way, but he’d chanced to look at Doumeki’s eyes. While they held understanding, there was a steely core in them that demanded silently that he not interrupt.

The risk of what might happen to Orphée, the reminders of all that he could lose if he interfered, was the only thing that stayed his wings from bursting him into the air. Other than Watanuki’s chanting, which was slowly increasing with strain, there was no sound. It was as if something had sucked up everything except that drone.

Everything was nearly destroyed when a sudden yell and burst of light distracted the young boy. For a terrifying moment even the chanting stopped and a terrible balance was almost upset. Yuuko’s voice snapped out, telling Watanuki to continue before it was shattered, and Torin realized that there was so much that he didn’t know about this spell. He was getting the inkling that if the spell was interrupted even for a moment, if the magic shattered, it would probably kill Orphée.

The Dimensional Witch, for that was what she was, left Watanuki’s shoulder and to the gate. Torin glared at the person who had almost cost Orphée his life and that was just one more notch on his list of why he no longer would ever hold any sympathy or liking for Lucifer. He hadn’t realized that the barrier that protected this shop had included preventing any angels or demons to enter without permission. Lucifer seemed to be banging hard on something invisible that separated him from taking even one more step toward the group.

He tuned out the conversation they had, ignoring the pull in his soul that told him that they would be having some angelic company to add onto that in a minute. Watanuki was faltering just a little bit more each time he started on a new phrase and sweat ran down his face from the magical exertion he wasn’t used to.

And yet nothing, not even Doumeki’s grip on his wrist could stop him when he heard his name whispered, fallen from those abused lips like a leaf in winter to kiss the earth with a sad sigh.

-0-

It was more painful than he expected and his knees buckled, the pull of the earth dragging him down to meet it. His claws dug into the ground and he bit his lip so hard he bled to contain his cry of pain. Pain ripped through his soul as the link began to exude its own version of blood. For all the fact that this was his body and he was powerful enough on his own, the spirit was giving him a run for his money.

The damage to the link wasn’t a lot, more like little chips and chinks in it than one big slice, but he knew that those could sometimes be a lot worse. A paper cut hurt a lot more than a gaping wound, simply because it was so tiny and precise.

Orphée drew strength from the image of Torin in his mind and though he might not ever say it out loud, the archangel had become the source most of his determination. He had wormed himself into the demon’s heart so thoroughly that he could think about almost nothing else. He even forgot about his bitterness over what had happened in the war, something that had never happened.

He was only peripherally aware that there was some warmth next to his body. At first he couldn't place it, no matter how he tried. It wasn’t until something exceptionally soft touched his cheek and the warmth, like the direct rays of the sun in the summer, that he realized it was wings. Wings meant Torin.

 _Oh damn it! Bloody hell, doesn’t he know that he’s not supposed to be near during this?!_ True to the prediction, it was a distraction to Orphée and in his preoccupation to identify the strangeness around him, the spirit had taken the moment to renew its attack on the chains that linked his soul to his body.

 _Don’t get cocky!_ he hissed at it, feeling its sense of satisfaction bombard his own perception of self. With a vicious surge, he shoved hard at the spirit, causing it to move back quite a bit from the chain.

The battle was invisible, not something that could be seen by either of them. It was entirely instinctual, testing themselves, the edges of who they were to find out where their enemy was. It was frustrating that he couldn’t cast a barrier around the chain linking his soul and body, but like Torin had said so long ago, it wasn’t something he could control in any way. Not angel, nor demon, had any influence over something like that. All he could do was defend it.

Orphée would have preferred to attack it straight on, rip it to shreds, and while he arguably could, it would leave the other bindings, and his very soul, exceptionally vulnerable. Sensing a lash of power behind him, he almost turned to block it before realizing that it was probably a feint. He ended up being right. If he’d put his concentration of fighting off what was behind him, he wouldn’t have been able to intercept the attack from the front, which would have put a great deal of damage on the link he was protecting.

He was beginning to wonder what he was going to do about this stalemate-like situation when something locked around both him and the spirit. It was painful, stifling, and he would have been out of breath had he needed to breathe. He couldn’t move, couldn’t even twitch his power. It frightened him, to tell the truth, but he wasn’t the only one. His fear was eclipsed by the terror of the invader in his body and it struggled fruitlessly against the invisible bonds that held them both still.

Logically he knew that it was the spell of Yuuko’s little employee. Logically, he knew that it couldn’t really do anything to him. He knew this, but that didn’t stop his instinctual fear. The link of soul to spirit seemed to intensify, glow until he couldn’t bear to even look in the direction of it behind him. It was like the sun had surrounded it with gold and there was an explosion of understanding in his mind.

Torin.

What he thought he was doing, Orphée didn’t know, but it calmed him, oddly enough. It was a good thing too, that he had that to fall back on, because if not, he would have screamed in pain. Something from the spell had invaded, began to forcefully rip things away from him. The chain of soul and body began to shake and he worried about the damaged cracks, but it didn’t break. Shrieks of pain bombarded his mind from the spirit and he sensed little bit by little bit, the entwined pieces of their essences being separated.

And then he was glad for the bindings that held him still so tightly because what felt like a vortex of power opened up near him. He instinctively tried to move away, to cling onto the any of his bindings that he could. The glow of soul and body was fading, the chain shaking as if in a strong wind, but to make up for it, body to earth’s chain grew stronger.

Nothing could stop his own scream of pain as something that felt like hands extended from the vortex and crawled over, investigating his soul. It felt…disgusting, repulsive, and no matter how he writhed, they seemed to poke into all his most intimate of emotions and memories, what he’d held so close to him for so long. _Fuck, fuck, fuck! Don’t you touch me, whatever the hell you are! You’re absolutely vile! Let me go, let me **go**!_

Apparently whatever he was being inspected for was not found and the probing, revolting presence that had molested him let him go. For a moment, he felt sympathy for the spirit as it howled in the same feelings he’d had. He watched in something close to horror, even for a demon, as a sense of evil satisfaction invaded him from the vortex. Slowly the hands retreated, dragging the spirit with him, creating handholds in the great, gaping wounds Watanuki’s spell had created as it had separated their melding souls.

It was giving unintelligible pleading, but it didn’t matter if he didn’t know what it was saying. He understood it all the same, very well. It was obvious to him that it was pleading with Orphée to save him, to stop this. _No wonder, you poor sod, that you didn’t want to go back._ Yet there was nothing he could do, even if he’d wanted to.

The vortex closed only after those millions of hands had scoured every inch of his body and molested him some more, making sure they had every inch of that spirit. They were greedy, wanting every part of it to torment. He roared in rage and repugnance as the hands had delved into the emotional wound still left after the war, as if curious about what it might find there. No matter what he tried, he couldn't force them to stop them, but he didn’t need to. There came a backlash of power from behind him, both golden light and intangible magic, to shove the hands back into the vortex, which closed as if it had never been.

Orphée’s eyes opened, hazy, as he took in the silent yard. The moment that little rip in his soul with those hands had closed, the unbelievable pressure that had bound him had disappeared. He groaned, feeling as if his whole body was on fire with pain, and he shifted uncomfortably. It was only then that he realized his state.

He was currently in Torin’s lap, straddling him tightly with his arms wrapped around the archangel’s neck with a vise like grip. He sensed wetness on his long, claw-like nails and peered at them in surprise. Red, like the vibrancy of a rose that had just opened, and the strong smell told him it was blood. He’d pierced and drawn the archangel’s blood with his tight hold.

“Orphée…” a voice whispered in his ear and it sounded so worried and tired that he almost couldn't associate it with Torin.

“What?” he demanded, and was shocked to hear and feel his voice so raw. It hurt to speak, even, and he could barely get it above a whimper in volume. And his bottom lip felt swollen. He winced when he explored with his tongue and it stung, tasting a bit of blood.

“Thank God, thank God you’re all right.”

Orphée half-heartedly tried to get out of Torin’s hold, seeing that there were five sets of eyes on them, but he felt so tired and in pain that he gave up. His befuddled brain caught up only after a minute or two that the number of gazes on him was wrong. He glanced at Yuuko, standing in the entryway to her gate, and cursed.

“Aw, shit.”  



	20. Two Angels and a Dream

Doumeki caught him as he fell and it was a good thing too, or Watanuki would have done a face plant into the dirt. He was exhausted, to the point that he almost passed out. It had taken every inch of willpower that he’d had not to stop every time Orphée looked like he was in pain. Near the end, Orphée had begun to scream and the argument that Yuuko was having with two men at the gate had even stopped.

He’d never heard such screams in his whole life, even from himself. It was filled with terror, disgust, and overwhelming pain. Yuuko hadn’t actually said that it wouldn’t hurt the demon, but he’d never assumed it would. All she’d ever said was that it wouldn’t send Orphée’s soul anywhere, so he had just assumed that the spell wouldn’t affect him so much.

He had never been so wrong in his life.

Torin had clutched Orphée tightly, pulling him into his lap securely, not even wincing when Orphée created great rents in the archangel’s back. What remained of the back of Torin’s robes were stained red and little more than shreds. Even now, though, it didn’t seem to occur to the archangel that he should be in pain. His golden eyes were focused only on Orphée.

Watanuki didn’t think he’d ever forget the sound of those screams. Orphée had screamed himself hoarse, though he obviously wasn’t aware of what he’d been doing at the time. He shivered a little, remembering it, and Doumeki’s arms tightened around him.

“I’m glad.”

“What?” he fuzzily replied.

“I’m glad it wasn’t you in his place.”

At any other time, Watanuki would have ranted at his boyfriend for being so coldhearted, but he didn’t have the energy. He sighed and probably would have fallen asleep if a commotion hadn’t started at the gate again. Though tired, curiosity prompted his vaguely blurry gaze to stare at his employer and the argument she was having with a frantic man. He didn’t need the black wings to tell him who this was. This was a very powerful demon, probably fallen angel. He blamed it on his exhaustion that the name ‘Lucifer’ didn’t give the impact it should have had.

The man next to him was as pure in coloring as Lucifer was in black. He wore elegant white clothing, not a scrap of other color, and his white wings were three-tiered. Sky, bright blue eyes watched everything, not saying a word, and as dark as Lucifer’s aura was, this was as bright. Even brighter than Torin’s, and unlike the solid gold color of his angelic friend, this was pure white. He was almost too bright to look at, so much so that Watanuki could barely make out any of the other details, such as his hair a spun gold color.

“I will not repeat myself, Lucifer,” Yuuko said, her voice still calm but with a hint of steel. “I will not let either of you in here. I can’t risk it. Both Orphée and Watanuki are in dire straits and you will not help matters.”

“You think I’m just going to stand here and _watch_ Naga in such pain?! I don’t know what the hell you were doing just now, but can’t you see his expression?! His skin is practically _white_! Nearly the color of this guy’s clothes!”

Lucifer dramatically pointed to his left and said angel raised an eyebrow curiously. His voice, when he spoke, was melodious and that was all Watanuki could really describe it as. No other words came to him and for as beautiful and stunning as he was, unlike the other angels he’d met previously, he didn’t feel like this one had a charm spell or something on him.

“I can see where you might be concerned, but Shekinah is still bleeding and I would like to speak with him quite badly at the moment.” Though his concern was palatable, this man was exceptionally polite and respectful.

“Again, I’m sorry Jesus, but I won’t be letting you in any more than I’ll be letting Lucifer in. Frankly, I have to say I am _severely_ disappointed in both Heaven and Hell after what’s been happening the last month or two. Watanuki’s been hounded by both angels and devils at his doorstep every morning. Orphée and Torin have had their work compromised also by unwanted visitors that are extremely belligerent in most cases, and I’m not just talking about demons when I say that.”

Watanuki felt as if he were out of touch with reality. Seeing both Lucifer and Jesus next to each other like that made it all seem so unreal. Even if he had had an inkling they might be interrupted, he’d never would have expected two of the most powerful angels and demons to show up on Yuuko’s doorstep. And Yuuko seemed so _used_ to dealing with them…

Jesus frowned a little. “I did not ask them to do that. I respect Shekinah’s decision to leave, even if I don’t understand it.”

Lucifer kicked at the gatepost hard, as he still wasn’t allowed entry, and scowled. “Don’t you look at me. I didn’t order them to do that either. The only reason I came was to find out why Naga disappeared on me.”

Yuuko shook her head. “I never said either of you told them to, but that doesn’t change the fact that they did. Lucifer, you should have been paying attention and keeping a reign on your demons. Jesus, if you really did respect his decision like you say you did, you should have told the other angels and made them understand too.”

Lucifer’s blue eyes, like dark sapphires, glared with so much frustration and anger that Watanuki was very glad the barrier was there. He looked like he wanted to rip Yuuko to shreds. Jesus appeared mildly rebuffed, but the gentle expression on his face didn’t lessen. He reached out to touch the barrier himself, eyes fixed on Torin and the wounds on his back.

For a moment there was silence and then Yuuko sighed heavily. “Since you two are obviously not going to leave… I will let you in, in a few hours time. Enough so that Watanuki and Orphée can rest, and Torin can be patched up. I will let you see them on three conditions: One: No other angels or demons are to come with you or come within two miles of my shop. Two: you must be civil with each other and anyone in this shop. I will not have a war or even an insult fest. Three, and the most important: there will be no physical violence or forcing or even coercion in my shop. You may ask your questions of Torin and Orphée, but you will not even so much as attempt to solicit them back to Heaven or Hell. Am I understood?”

Faced with either accepting those options or never being let in, Lucifer and Jesus had no choice but to agree. The conversation continued for a bit more, but by then Watanuki had used up all his energy to remain awake and he drifted off to sleep amid the warmth of Doumeki’s firm arms.

-0-

Despite his utter embarrassment, five hours later Orphée was awake after having slept for some time and firmly ensconced in Torin’s arms. He couldn’t move very well on his own, for reasons he still wasn’t sure of, and his soul still felt so pained. It was as if his soul was affecting his nerve endings and every time he tried to move, they fired off warning signals.

So currently, he was sulking about that.

Torin had apparently been bandaged up from the wounds he’d given his lover and assured him that they didn’t hurt him. Orphée had an inkling that maybe he’d made a deal with Yuuko for some salve or something to take away the pain, but since he wasn’t _sure_ , he couldn’t berate Torin about it.

He shifted as best he could and his wings felt so cramped, but there was nothing for it. Yuuko had told him that it would be in his ‘best interests’ to remain in his demonic form for a while. Of course, she didn’t tell him _why_ and he really didn’t trust her sly look when he was about to ask. If he wasn’t so busy sulking, he would have ranted at Torin for not wearing a shirt and only bandages, especially if Lucifer and most notably Jesus, were coming, but no matter how much he cajoled and threatened the two teenagers, neither gave him a shirt to ruin so Torin could wear it.

Really, wings were often more trouble than they were worth, especially ones with _feathers_.

“You can let _go_ any time now, Torin. I don’t need to sit in a human chair.”

“No.”

The flat and firm statement told him there was no point in arguing further. He had learned that tone lately. That meant that Torin refused to listen and he’d be wasting his breath to continue. Of course, that didn’t stop Orphée from trying and he spent the next hour doing just that until the door opened.

Yuuko came in first, dragging with her what Orphée considered definitely unwanted baggage. Jesus had a bit of trouble getting his three-tiered wings to fold just right in order to step in and he found himself smirking in evil amusement as he watched the man stumble a bit as he finally got all of his wings inside with a few ruffled feathers. That reminded him, Torin had never answered him about who Jesus had been in love with…

Lucifer came after, casting a disgusted look at the composed angel and clamped his wings tight against his back as he entered, obviously having more experience with normal doors than Jesus, who was probably used to white, vaulting, marble archways.

His gaze wasn’t friendly on Jesus, remembering with a surge of jealously what Torin had told him when they’d first had sex. Compassion and sympathy it may have been, rather than romantic love, but that didn’t mean he had to like it one bit. Neither Watanuki nor Doumeki showed up, which was probably a good thing for the spiritual kid. Both Lucifer and Jesus’ auras were twice that of Orphée’s and Torin’s, powerful enough in their own right to knock a spiritually sensitive person on their ass by simply being there.

“Well?” he demanded, voice still on the hoarse side. “What exactly does Heaven and Hell want with us?”

“Yuuko has informed us what was going on when we arrived,” Jesus explained, apparently not giving any thought nor attention to Orphée’s scowls in his direction, as if he just didn’t care.

“And?”

Lucifer came forward and dropped to his knees in front of Orphée. He felt the subtle tightening of Torin’s arms and he nearly shook his head with a sigh. He didn’t understand the jealousy of Torin’s over Lucifer’s position in his life. It wasn’t as if Lucifer was in love with him or anything!

“Naga, how can you not know I’m here? You think I could hear you scream like that, over and over and over again, and not try to get near you? Even to the point of trying to force that stupid barrier open?”

He frowned heavily. He’d been told he’d screamed enough to wake the dead, even make Hell shiver in fear of what it sounded like, but he honestly couldn’t remember doing so. Logically, he figured that his body must have screamed when his soul did, but he rather wished it hadn’t. The only thing worse would have been if his body had started to cry. That he’d never live down. He was having a hard enough time with this. To show such a weak side of himself…

“I don’t remember that,” he replied moodily, shifting his weight as one side of his behind grew numb onto the other. “And how’d you even know to come in the first place?”

For a second, there was no answer and Orphée’s gaze narrowed distrustfully. “Were you spying on me again, Luce?”

“No.” The answer didn’t come from his superior, but that of Jesus, who looked gravely worried and concerned. “You wouldn’t need to be spied on for this to be found out. That boy…he has incredible power. It was sending ripples through the very foundations of Heaven, and I would also assume Hell. If he has this much power at such an untrained level, I can’t imagine how much worse it would be when his power grows and remaining unchecked, got out of control.”

“What he said,” Lucifer grumbled. “Why, Naga? Why did you agree to do something so stupid?!”

“There wasn’t any other choice,” Yuuko said at last, moving to sit down on an empty cushion so that the only one still standing was Jesus. “The spirit had to be dealt with soon, before it summoned something else and before Heaven and Hell got anymore involved and impeded the process of dealing with it. There was, frankly, no more time.”

Silence fell again, and Orphée could see the looks in both Lucifer and Jesus’ eyes that said they had a lot of stuff to ask and say, but were holding back. He frowned, not understanding why. It especially wasn’t like Lucifer, who said what he wanted when he wanted to and consequences be damned. “Both of you have stuff you’re stewing about, so let’s get to it already!” he complained, noting that Torin was being suspiciously quiet behind him.

“Oh? Get to what?” Yuuko teased, but her eyes were serious.

“To the most obvious thing that probably is the only thing that brought Luce and God’s little baby all the way down here in the first place: me and Torin. Isn’t that why you’re here? To find out the insanity of our relationship and talk us into coming back to where you want us to go?”

“What relationship?” Jesus replied, but he could see the understanding in his eyes. The man knew what he was talking about, but had obviously decided to go the neutral route.

“Don’t play fucking dumb with me, Jesus. You know exactly what I’m talking about. Everybody in this room knows about it. Torin and I—”

Torin’s hand blocked his mouth, silencing him, and he cast an irritated glance over his shoulder. “Perhaps a little more delicacy is order, Orphée.” Fingers changed from keeping him quiet to smoothly caressing his mouth and it took all his willpower not to just melt, as frustratingly and embarrassingly romantic as that was.

“What, you don’t want me to tell them? Didn’t think you, of all people, would be ashamed of us.”

“I’m not ashamed, but knowing you, perhaps the words you had been about to say to describe us are not the best.”

“Oh really then,” he stated scathingly and crossed his arms to sulk even more. “Then _you_ can tell them. Not like they don’t already know anyway, the bastards.”

“Orphée and I are in love. Forgive me, Jesus. Though he was not the reason I left Heaven, he has become the reason I can’t go back. Nothing in the world can make me leave him.”

Orphée’s eyes watched Jesus’ reaction like a hawk, for any hint of jealousy, but there wasn’t any. His expression hadn’t changed from neutral but vaguely concerned, not even so much as a twitch of his eyebrow betrayed him. It could mean that Torin really wasn’t this unrequited love of his, or it could mean he was just really, really good at hiding his emotions.

“And is this mutual?”

All attention fixed on him. Lucifer’s eyes burned at him like fire and he would have shifted uncomfortably again if it wouldn’t have given away the fact that he _was_ uneasy with all this attention. He knew he wasn’t going to get out of this without saying _something_. But it was so embarrassing and weak to say those words, so exposing, that he couldn’t help trying to do anything to avoid having to speak them. So long as Torin knew his feelings, was confident in them, he didn’t see as it was anyone else’s business.

“Like I should tell you!” he snapped. “Either of you, it’s none of your business. It’s between me and Torin and that’s just it. So get your long, pointy noses _out_ of our business!”

In the stunned stillness, Yuuko cleared her throat and muttered, voice tinged with amusement, “Orphée, _dear_ , though I realize you’re embarrassed, perhaps telling them what you feel once and for all, will clear everything up and you won’t ever have to say it again.”

 _Call me ‘dear’ one more time Yuuko, and I’ll break your bloody pipe!_ He would have remained silent for the rest of his days if Torin hadn’t run his lips a little too close to his pointed, pierced ears and caused him to shiver a little. “All right, _fine_ you bastards! Mark the bloody date! _**Yes**_ , I love him. Okay?! Happy now?! So _back off, he’s **mine**_.”

Jesus’ expression cracked a little and he looked surprised when Orphée glared with jealousy and dislike at him. Lucifer noticed and burst out laughing, and a faint tinge of embarrassed pink came to the angel's cheeks. “Good one, Naga, good one!” Lucifer chanted, laughing so hard he could barely breathe. “Just like the jealous lover!”

There was a tinge of sadness that he couldn't help noticing amid the tears of laughter in Lucifer’s eyes, but he didn’t understand it, yet felt badly about it all the same. Lucifer must be lonely back down in Hell. Orphée had been the only one that the demon had really gotten close to. He wanted to apologize, but couldn’t. That would make his friend’s feelings even clearer and he didn’t wish to mortify Lucifer.

Jesus cleared his throat as Lucifer wheezed in air as he calmed down. “Yes, well, I merely wished to know if Shekinah was happy and the feelings were mutual. You have nothing to worry about, we are only close friends.”

Though his mind knew angels couldn’t lie, his feelings didn’t quite understand that and he merely grumbled jealously. It really did make him want to know just who Jesus’ crush had been on, but Torin just wouldn’t say anything whenever he asked.

“One last thing, gentlemen,” Yuuko interrupted when the Lucifer and Jesus were about to leave, obviously still not allowed to say all that they wanted and yet nothing else that they could. She waited until all eyes were focused on her and then an infinitely smug grin touched her face. It was all the warning Orphée had.

“The bonds between Heaven and Hell have been cut, so that they are not forced to obey any commands by you, Lucifer, or God or Jesus.”

“Why?” Jesus asked, curiosity tinting his tone. “I think it would be clear that we would not order them to return after seeing all this.”

“Because it wouldn’t do to have someone, especially Lucifer, try to order my successor back to Hell.”

“…What?”

Her grin became nothing short of evilly amused at Lucifer’s question, as Orphée was filled with a budding horror. “Oh of course, I never told you. Orphée will be the next wish granter.”

It was too much after that day, really. No matter how many years it would be, Orphée felt justified in defending the fact that he had downright fainted upon hearing that.

**End**  



	21. Epilogue - Spread My Wings

_How the hell can I be the next wish granter?! I’m a **demon**! I don’t have that kind of power! I’m not even as powerful as Lucifer, damn it! Wish granters have always been removed from both Heaven and Hell, more powerful than either! Just **how the hell** do I fit into this category?! And just what the fuck is wrong with you, not even asking my opinion on what I might want?!”_

_“Don’t worry so much, Orphée. You’ll be fine. Your magic is very, very strong in states of being, such as blindness, paralyzing, silence, and things of that nature. That is extremely useful in this business, perhaps one of the most useful things you’ll ever come across and will make your time at this a lot easier than I’ve had it.”_

_“Don’t you look so smug at me and tell me not to worry! And before you say, it won’t stop screaming, because I’m pissed as hell! Weren’t you the one that always kept reminding me how powerful you were, that you created gods before in another world?! How the hell am I supposed to do this job when I can’t pull off something similar?! What the fuck happens when something I can’t deal with comes along?!”_

_“ **Relax** , Orphée, really or you’re going to split a gut. And I’ve already a solution to your concerns. Torin will always be there to help you and lend you his power, which is light to your dark and very powerful besides, and I’m leaving you Mokona and the girls. The girls can help settle you down into the daily routines of small wishes and Mokona has his own magic to help you on the really big things that neither your power or Torin’s can cover.”_

_“…You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”_

_“I like to think so.”_

_“You’re finding so much amusement at my torment, aren’t you?”_

_“Oh, loads.”_

_“You’ve wanted to get back at me for so long for all that teasing, didn’t you?”_

_“My, you’re sharp as a pin today, Orphée!”_

_“You’ve been planning this for a long time, weren’t you?”_

_“…”_

_“…”_

_“…If Torin wasn’t restraining me, I’d rip that smug grin right off your face.”_

_“I hate you too, Orphée dear. Now be a sweetheart and help pick up some of the things in the shop that Watanuki can’t do while he recovers.”_

“I swear that woman is out to get me,” Orphée muttered and collapsed on the sofa in his house. “I can’t believe she’d do this to me!”

Torin smiled and knelt near Orphée’s head, giving a sweet kiss as a welcome back. He had no trouble displaying his emotions so freely like this, and he rather liked it when Orphée blushed so adorably like that. “Why do you and Yuuko have such animosity for each other?”

“Probably because we’re so alike,” the demon grumbled. “She’s worse than Lucifer, worse than Aiko. I can’t think of another person in any world that is more demonic than that…that…”

The doorbell ringing prevented Torin from hearing which particular expletive Orphée had decided to choose to describe Yuuko. He stood, answering the door with a guarded expression. With his luck, it would be Lucifer. Four days after everything with that spirit was settled down and he had feared that Lucifer would be the type to get in the way just because he didn’t approve.

Watanuki smiled at him hesitantly and he relaxed, letting in the boy and his ever-present protective shadow. “Ah, Kimihiro! What brings you here?”

He led them into the living room where Orphée still currently lounged like a lanky lump. The demon looked at the boys, but he could tell that the irritation his lover put up was merely for show. Whether or not he’d admit it, Orphée was fond of Watanuki and Doumeki. “Haven’t seen you in four days, kid, and by Lucifer, I hope you’re well enough to go back to work because Yuuko is driving me crazy! I refuse to clean that house that only gets dirty the moment I turn my back! Torin, get over here. I need a pillow!”

“Yes, yes,” he replied with a patient smile, and settled down onto the sofa so that Orphée could use his lap for a pillow. Many would have said being the lover of a demon, especially one like Orphée, would be hard work, but he really didn’t think of it that way. As belligerent as he could be sometimes, rude and sarcastic, that was just how he was. It wasn’t that Torin liked to be ordered around, but that to him, they weren’t really orders. It was just Orphée’s way of asking.

A hand automatically tangled in the demon’s hair and he enjoyed watching a faint flush go up Orphée’s neck.

“Are you all right, Orphée-san? I didn’t think the spell would hurt you so much, if at all.” Watanuki gingerly sat down in one of the chairs, trying to be polite and not commenting on the remains of the coffee table that hadn’t been cleared away yet for lack of time. Doumeki, on the other hand, stared at it quite obviously with a question in his eyes, as he sat down quietly.

Orphée waved his hand dismissively. “Fine, fine. It didn’t hurt, I barely felt it.”

“But you were screaming so badly—”

“I _said_ it didn’t hurt!” the demon snapped viciously and Torin’s hand squeezed on his shoulder to calm him down when Watanuki winced. Though he grumbled, though he’d never say he was sorry, the archangel knew the sentiment was there all the same.

“Sorry, Orphée-san, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t upset me, but if you really want to keep me in a good mood, stop talking about that. As far as I’m concerned, it didn’t hurt and it’s in the past.”

There was a moment of silence as Orphée shifted and got comfortable again. Watanuki’s attention turned to Torin. “You seem to be spending a lot of time here, Torin-san. Do you live close by?”

“No, I happen to live on the other side of town, in an apartment,” he replied, glancing at Watanuki’s boyfriend, who had gone to nudging the pieces of wood around with his foot. Watanuki hissed at him to stop under his breath, but the stubborn look in the boy’s eyes told the archangel that he would no doubt ask the question as to what happened soon.

“Then isn’t it out of your way to come here? You’ve visited here a lot in the past few months and Yuuko-san says you come here every day since it ended.”

“That’s ‘cause Torin’s moving in,” Orphée broke in bluntly, staring at the ceiling and looking as nonchalant as he could. “He’s useful, takes care of the house when I’m working, and it’s a pain in the ass if he’s across town when I want him for something. Not to mention, he can take care of my editor like nobody’s business. The easiest thing to do for all concerned is to live here.”

“But Orphée-san—”

Torin chuckled, and Watanuki sent him a curious look at his interruption. “Don’t worry, Kimihiro. Orphée has a hard time expressing his feelings honestly, so he can’t just say that he wanted me to live here because he loves me and misses me. That’s all right, because I understand what he can’t and won’t say.”

Orphée’s flush on his neck and ears were getting deeper and the demon was _pointedly_ not looking at him. “What the hell?! Don’t get all cocky, celestial. Just because we’re dating doesn’t mean a damn thing. You better not take any weird ideas of yours and run off all half-cocked with them, when I didn’t _say_ that.”

“You don’t have to, Orphée. I know.”

“Really, you’re such an idiot! There’s nothing to do with you! Looks like I’ll have to probably take care of you for the rest of your life, otherwise people will take advantage of you, dense as you are.”

Insults were a part of Orphée’s being, he understood that too. Forgetting for a moment that they had company, he leaned down so that their eyes met. “And Orphée, we’re not dating. We’ve gone far beyond that. Dating implies something that isn’t permanent and subject to change, and my feelings for you won’t change. You are mine and I am yours for life.”

“You—”

“What happened to the table?”

The blunt, expressionless question broke into their own little world and Torin glanced up, smiling in fondness as Watanuki nearly kicked Doumeki for asking such a tactless question. By the blush that was appearing on the slimmer boy’s cheeks, he obviously had come to the conclusion something very intimate had happened on the table and hadn’t wanted to bring it up.

Well, he was both right and wrong at the same time.

“Oh, that—”

“ _None of your business!_ ” Orphée snapped, his face turning as red as Watanuki’s and his eyes fierce, though it didn’t seem to intimidate Doumeki one bit. The demon sat up, managing to not brain himself on Torin’s forehead, and crossed his arms defensively. “And don’t you dare get any dirty ideas! It’s not like he _did_ anything there! This is bloody Torin we’re talking about here! He’s an archangel, he’s not into kinky!”

Torin tilted his head and couldn’t help teasing his beloved just a tiny, little bit. “Orphée, would you have preferred I take you there, rather than in bed?”

The moment of silence stretched endlessly as all eyes set on him. The first thing to break it was snickering from Doumeki and he began to worry if Orphée’s heart would give out, seeing how red his face was becoming with outrage, shock, and embarrassment. Watanuki’s eyes were wide and he said perhaps the worst question in a moment like this.

“You mean Orphée-san was on the bottom?”

The resounding slam of the bedroom door was accompanied by a crack and Torin could only imagine how twisted and gnarled the wood would be when he finally went to find Orphée. He chuckled at how adorable his lover was, though if he pressed much more, he thought Orphée just might hit him. He found it a miracle that the demon had managed to restrain himself and just lock himself in the bedroom, rather than shred somebody in his embarrassed rage.

“I’m sorry, Torin-san, was that not the right thing to ask?”

Doumeki was still snickering, even worse than before. He smiled softly, highly happy with his life now, at the worried boy across from him. “Don’t worry, Kimihiro, Orphée is just embarrassed. It’ll be fine, he just needs to calm down. What about you? Have you recovered in the last four days?”

Watanuki nodded. “I didn’t think the spell would be so exhausting. I slept for so long and the jerk here refused to go away for even five minutes, always hovering around me like that a mother hen.”

“But doesn’t that show you how much you’re loved?”

Torin was getting used to seeing blushing people around him, as Watanuki’s cheeks turned as red as Orphée’s had been before. “I-I didn’t say I didn’t like it or anything, just that he’s a jerk that always wants me to chain myself to the stove and cook for him and—”

He listened as Watanuki ranted on, but it didn’t bother Doumeki. His eyes, on his boyfriend, were calm and if Torin looked for it closely, filled with affection. It was easier to read Doumeki than it was Orphée and he knew what to look for. It was something to be said for all of them that they had their own quirks in love:

Torin said everything truthfully and didn’t hide anything.

Doumeki didn’t hide it, but also didn’t show it readily.

Watanuki had learned not to deny it, but didn’t say it.

Orphée showed it with actions, but disavowed in words.

All four of them were unique and yet so terribly similar. For polar opposites as each of them were to their significant other, there had formed an amazing and unbreakable bond between each. The propensity for things falling apart with people that were too opposite was there, but at the same time, there was a chance that the bond between the two people would be the greatest of any other relationship, provided they both tried to understand the other.

“What are you smiling so happily about, Torin-san?”

He blinked, realizing he’d gotten so lost in thought that he’d tuned out everything around him. “Ah, I was just thinking about happiness, Kimihiro. For the first time in my life, I have found that I want for nothing at all, so long as Orphée is there. Can’t you say the same of Shizuka being around you?”

Though he looked distinctly uncomfortable, though Watanuki wouldn’t look at his boyfriend despite the eyes on him, he muttered grudgingly, “Yes.”

He waited for a moment, but Watanuki didn’t say anything else and he figured then was a good time to let them be alone so that Doumeki could say what was on his mind. “I think, perhaps, it’s time for me to go find Orphée. I suspect, though, that the four of us will get to know each other very, very well in the coming years and will be working together for a long time to come.”

Watanuki nodded, appearing relieved about that, and after another few minutes, the house was quiet again. Torin glanced over his shoulder to the little bottle of light set safely on a shelf high above the ground. Kunogi Himawari had been her name and she had sacrificed everything for the sake of her friend.

“Do not worry,” he whispered to the bottle, and though he knew most likely her spirit wouldn’t understand or hear, but he said it anyway just in case it was necessary. “He will be fine. You’ve done so much more than anyone would have ever asked, and I must thank you, for without your sacrifice, I wouldn’t have met Orphée. So let your soul be at peace from worry. I wish you happiness when your time for reincarnation comes.”

He stepped over the remains of the table and headed toward the back of the house, where Orphée was sulking.

**End**  


[FANART](http://startofdreams.livejournal.com/39778.html#cutid1)


End file.
